Breaking Point
by AngelofPrey
Summary: Emma finds herself fighting for Jefferson's freedom when Regina decides that he is too dangerous to be left on his own. But are Emma's emotions clouding her better judgement? Continuation of my one shot "Stress Relief."
1. Setting the Board

Disclaimer: I don't own Once Upon A Time, or its characters, nor am I making any money off of this. So please don't sue, all I own is a laptop, a rather extensive library and DVD collection, and a badly behaved Labrador mutt named Midnight, so you'll rack up more in lawyers' bills than my entire net worth. Please and thank you, with a cherry on top.

A/N: If you haven't already, I recommend reading my story "Stress Relief" before starting this one as I do make reference to it in later chapters. It's only one chapter long and is full of smutty goodness, if you're reading this, I'm fairly certain you'd like that one too!

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Since the incident with Jefferson a week ago, Emma found herself turning her gaze on the clump of trees that obscured his house from sight more and more frequently. Every once in a while she thought she would see the glint of a telescope lense through the branches, but it wouldn't happen again and Emma's attention would be drawn back to whatever it was she had been doing in the first place.

When Mary Margaret had returned home after being released from all charges, Emma has questioned her about their eccentric captor.

"Had you never met him before?" Emma asked.

"No," Mary Margaret replied. "I didn't even know that house was out there."

"You're sure? You'd never seen him around town? He wasn't in the least bit familiar?"

"No! Emma, I don't know _everyone_ in Storybrooke. The town isn't _that_ small!"

Emma frowned.

"Sometimes it feels that way." She muttered to herself.

Eventually Emma's curiosity had grown so great that she'd relented and gone to the Town Hall, to the records room, and dug herself into the mystery that was Jefferson Lake.

The files didn't tell her much she hadn't already suspected.

Jefferson Lake was a sick man; a recluse, and prone to bouts of insanity that made him a danger to society. Newspaper articles from several years back mentioned large donations to Regina's father's memorial foundation which gave money to the schools and hospital in the dead man's name. Emma suspected that this was what had spared him from being locked in the mental ward at the hospital.

However, Jefferson's police records were pristine. They never mentioned anything about him hurting anyone, or even anything so trivial as property damage, or the neighbors calling in a domestic disturbance, nothing that would merit the hospital records that claimed him a danger to himself and others.

Emma looked at the records again; they were signed by Dr. Whale.

Emma frowned.

"Sheriff Swan, what a pleasant surprise, I didn't expect to meet you here." Regina's overly sweet voice cut through Emma's musings, and she slammed Jefferson's file shut.

Regina's eyebrows rose.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." She said.

"No," Emma replied. "I was just about done here."

Emma stood from the desk and pulled on her jacket.

"Working on a case?" Regina asked amicably.

"More like personal research." Emma replied, gathering up the file and handing it to the book-keeper.

"Not on government hours I hope…"

"I'm on my lunch break."

Emma breezed past Regina and out the door without another word.

Regina's eyes narrowed and she stepped up to the book keeper's desk.

"Can I help you, Ms. Mayor?" the man asked, adjusting his square glasses on his nose.

Regina sniffed; this man's purpose in life hadn't been much affected by the curse. He'd gone from being the Kingdom's librarian in the Royal Archives, to the book keeper in the town's Record Room. Still, his happiness was inconsequential to Regina's plots.

"I'd like to see the file Sheriff Swan was just reading if you don't mind." She said.

The man hmmm-ed appreciatively.

"Sheriff Swan wanted to know about Jefferson Lake, ma'am."

He picked the files up off of the "returns" shelf and slid them closer to Regina through the partition, files that Regina had co-authored herself.

"Has he done something?" the man said, "If you don't mind me asking."

Regina frowned and turned to leave.

"Not that I know of." She said.

"Don't you want the files, your majesty?"

Regina stopped dead in her tracks.

"Excuse me?" Regina's voice was perilously calm.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I don't know why I said that." The man stuttered.

Regina visibly shaken by this slip, left the Town Hall in a hurry and made her way towards a house hidden on the outskirts of town where the Mad Hatter held his tea.

Emma really shouldn't have been so surprised when she quite literally ran into Jefferson after spending most of the day reading about him.

"Oh god!" she cried, after pushing the door to the diner open right into someone's face. "I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

She didn't realize who it was right away, but eventually his coifed hair and impeccable state of dress gave him away.

"Jefferson!" she cried. "What are you doing here?"

"I was taking a walk, Emma. Is that a crime?" He said, dabbing at the cut on his forehead with his sleeve.

"For you? Very likely." Emma retorted, and Jefferson rolled his eyes.

"Here, let me see that." Emma said, batting his hands away from the cut, to poke at it herself.

Jefferson hissed in pain. "Watch it!"

"Oh, shut it! We better get some antiseptic on that, come with me."

Even Jefferson looked confused at this logic.

"I thought you just said I was dangerous?"

"You are, but I am perfectly aware of that fact, and I'm also aware that I've got a Taser that will be in my hand the entire time."

Jefferson was still too confused to argue, so he followed her down the street and to her yellow bug without more complaint.

Upon entering her apartment the first thing Jefferson noticed was that Mary Margaret was not in.

"She's at work." Emma said, and Jefferson realized he'd made that observation out loud. Speaking his thoughts had been a habit he'd developed from so many years on his own, after he once discovered his voice hoarse from disuse.

"She wouldn't like it if she knew I were here." Jefferson commented.

"Probably not," Emma replied, placing the remains of her lunch in the fridge. "You did kidnap her."

"I didn't kidnap her, I held her hostage, there's a difference."

Emma rolled her eyes. "Still a felony."

Jefferson followed her down the hall into the bathroom where the first-aid kit was kept. As Emma pulled the bottle of rubbing alcohol out and the cotton balls Jefferson eyes his surroundings.

"It suits her." He spoke his thoughts aloud again.

"Sorry?" Emma asked, as she pressed an alcohol-soaked ball of wool to his cut. "What suits who?"

"This apartment, it suits Snow White. It reminds me of her cottage."

Emma rolled her eyes again, and Jefferson's temper snapped.

"I didn't ask for you to help me!" He shouted. "I'm your guest, so maybe treat me with a little more hospitality!"

Emma set down the cotton ball and the bottle of alcohol so hard that the bottle wobbled on the edge of the sink.

"If you hadn't been _stalking_ me I wouldn't have opened the door into your face!" Emma shouted back.

"I wasn't stalking you!"

"Oh right," Emma huffed incredulously, "Then what were you doing?"

"I was going to see Grace!" he yelled, and the air around them crackled with tension at the mention of her name.

Emma eyed him warily.

"Jefferson, I'm sorry, I really am, but that little girl is _not_ your daughter." She said slowly.

Jefferson raised his hands as if to grab her and Emma braced herself, but a look of acute pain crossed his face and he resisted, instead scrubbing his hands through his hair. After a moment or two, he calmed himself enough to glare at her and bite out the words:

"She _is_."

Then he stormed out of the room, to violently pull on his coat.

"Jefferson," Emma called after him. "Where are you going?"

"Home!" he said spitefully, and he slammed the door, leaving Emma staring after him.

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Jefferson muttered to himself angrily as he walked, finally reaching home as the sun set.

The moment his hand touched the door knob he knew something was wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and he turned on his heel.

Regina stood at the foot of the stairs and Jefferson scowled at her. This is just what he needed.

"What do you want?"

"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" Regina gave an exaggerated pout.

"You're no friend of mine." He snarled. "Now get off of my property, before I call the police and have them make you leave."

Regina shifted, folding her arms across her chest.

"Actually that's what I wanted to talk to you about." She said. "Sheriff Swan has taken and interest in you, she was at Town Hall today looking into your records… Any reason why she would be doing that? In fact, how the hell does she even know about you at all?"

Jefferson didn't say a word, just stared at her.

"Why should I tell you?" He growled after she cocked an eyebrow at him.

Regina climbed the stairs so she could stand toe-to-toe with him and whispered:

"Because if you don't, I'll make sure that little girl of yours' life isn't worth living…"

A muscle in Jefferson's jaw twitched.

"She was looking for a friend of hers in the woods one night a few weeks ago." He said. "She nearly hit me with her car; I invited her back to my house for tea. She's the savior, as I'm sure you're aware, and I held her hostage so that she could fix my hat, and I could go home… She got loose, freed her mother, and they pushed me out a window. I haven't seen them since…"

Regina's face betrayed the fear she felt, and that gave Jefferson a small amount of pleasure.

"Did she succeed?" Regina urged.

Jefferson took a moment to think about his answer.

"What do you think?" He sneered.

He allowed Regina to draw her own conclusions based on whatever would make her feel the most comfortable, and Jefferson didn't have to lie, but he didn't bother to correct her either.

"No, of course not." She said, after searching his blank expression for a few moments. "I would have known if she had."

"Is that all?" Jefferson asked. "Because I'd really like it if you'd leave now."

"Yes, that's – no! Where have you been today? You're not allowed to leave this house…"

The corner of Jefferson's mouth twitched up into a humorless smile.

"I guess your iron laws aren't as strong as they used to be…" He said, opening the front door. "Good night, Regina."

He closed it again in her face.

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Regina sat in her office nervously chewing on her bottom lip. Suddenly Mary Margaret's failed escape attempt made so much more sense. But there were suddenly more pressing matters than Regina's personal revenge. The spell was weakening, barely enough to matter, but still… Eventually many small cracks could fracture the whole damn thing. Jefferson remembered everything, his madness had saved him from that aspect of the curse, or perhaps the curse had known that remembering was the more perfect hell in his case. Either way the fact that he was no longer confined to his house was troubling. The fact that he had been in contact with Emma was even more so.

Regina lifted the receiver on her phone and entered the three digit code that called Dr. Whale.

"Mayor Mills," Dr. Whale answered sleepily, after a few rings. "What a pleasant surprise to hear from you at this hour…"

"Jonah, I need a favor."

There was a pause.

"What does that entail exactly?" the doctor asked cautiously.

"I need you to reopen the Jefferson Lake case… I have reason to believe that he has been harassing my voters."

"Oh?" Dr. Whale sounded intrigued. "And can I expect any… compensation, for my pains?"

"If an anonymous donation was to find its way to your hospital, would that suffice?"

"That depends, Mr. Lake is bound to resist."

"It will be a very large donation; I can assure you of that."

"Very well, Madame Mayor, I will have a van sent to his residence to collect him for observation in the morning."

"Very good," replied Regina, "I'll keep in touch."

Regina hung up, and drummed her fingers on the desk top. It was the hatter's move.

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A/N: Thanks for reading, please take a second to review! Anything as simple as "liked it," will be equally welcome as anything longer. And yes, I gave Dr. Whale the first name Jonah. That is my head cannon until show cannon tells me otherwise…


	2. A Weasel in the Rabbit Warren

A/N: Until the writers provide me with a proper last name Jefferson will bear the last name Lake in my cannon… I just like the way that name sounds. Jefferson Lake.

If you haven't already I do recommend first reading my story "Stress Relief." I make reference to it in this chapter. It's a one shot a full of smut, if you're reading this you'll probably enjoy that one too!

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Chapter 2: A Weasel in the Rabbit Warren

Emma was on the phone with Henry, discussing the possibility of pizza and a movie when Jefferson blew into the station with the force of a hurricane and promptly tried to lock himself in one of the empty cells.

"Henry, can I call you back?" Emma said, her mouth still hanging open from shock.

Jefferson was staring at her expectantly through the bars, and breathing heavily as if he'd run from his house to her station. He'd obviously left in a hurry; he wasn't wearing a coat.

"Why? Has something happened?" The little boy sounded far too excited at the prospect.

"No, just, someone's here to see me." Emma replied.

"Oh, ok, I'll talk to you later then."

"Yeah, talk to you later, bye."

Emma hung up and leaned back in her chair folding her arms across her chest.

"What?" Jefferson asked after a few moments under her intense stare.

Emma shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. How about we start with why you're here, and why you're trying to lock yourself _inside_ a jail cell?"

"Dr. Whale has sent some men to collect me." He replied.

"Why?"

"I don't know."

Emma's eyes narrowed. "Jefferson, what have you done?"

"Nothing!" He exclaimed, "I swear! If I had, wouldn't you have heard about it?"

Emma sighed, he was right.

"Jefferson, there has to be a _reason_ why—"

"There is; Regina was at my house when I got there last night. She said that she'd found out you'd been researching me and it scared her. She doesn't like the idea of you being around me."

"Why?"

"Because of the curse! She doesn't want you to _believe_."

"Well then, she has nothing to worry about, seeing that I don't."

Jefferson growled in frustration, but whatever he had been about to say died on his lips at the sound of the front door to the station opening.

"It's them!" he whispered, then turned back to look at her. "_Help_ me, Emma. _Please_!"

Emma bit her lip.

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Two burly men lumbered into her office a few seconds later, followed closely by a thinner man in a suit.

"My apologies for this disturbance Sheriff, but I don't suppose you've seen Jefferson Lake at all today?" said Dr. Whale.

Emma looked up from the paper work on her desk.

"No, sorry I haven't, Dr. Whale." She replied.

"You wouldn't mind if we searched the station then would you?"

Emma frowned. "I just said I haven't seen him, why would you need to?"

"Oh, you know he may have slipped in unnoticed while you were in the restroom or out on a call… This is just to be sure a dangerous man isn't lurking in your office…"

Emma smirked. "It's my job to handle dangerous men, Dr. Whale, but be my guest."

Emma gestured with her hand around the room.

"Thank you, Miss Swan." Dr. Whale bowed his head slightly and the two men began opening closet doors and looking under tables for their query.

Emma watched Dr. Whale closely.

"Has Mr. Lake done something, Dr. Whale?" Emma asked.

Dr. Whale shook himself out of thought.

"What? Oh, yes, the mayor received several calls last night from people around town, complaining that he had harassed them yesterday, and she called me, concerned he had suffered a relapse."

Emma could smell the lie a mile away even without the fact that Regina had been to see Jefferson the night before.

"I see," Emma said, "Why wasn't I called?"

Dr. Whale hesitated, "I don't know Miss Swan, perhaps some of the citizens prefer to trust a familiar face, such as the mayor to a…"

"Stranger." Emma offered.

"As you say," Replied the doctor, "no offense intended Miss Swan. I personally think you are doing an exceptional job since the death of Sheriff Graham."

Emma's jaw clenched at the mention of his name, that wound still hurt.

At that moment the two men returned.

"He's not here." One man said.

"You're sure?" Dr. Whale asked. "We don't want to leave our dear Sheriff with a nasty situation…"

"We're sure," said the other, "We've searched the place top to bottom."

"Very well, perhaps he's returned to his house, go there and keep an eye out until he's found." Dr. Whale then turned to Emma. "You will call us, if you hear anything?"

"Of course." She replied.

"Very good, we'll let you get back to work then. Good day, Sheriff."

"Good luck finding him." Emma replied as they left.

Emma sighed and stood up from her desk.

"You can come out now." She said with a small grin.

Jefferson groaned as she unfolded his legs and crawled out from under her desk. He stretched as he stood, and his back cracked loudly.

"You need a bigger desk." He said coming to stand next to her as she leaned on the edge of the object in question.

Emma smirked. "I'll mention it to the town board meeting in August…"

Jefferson gave a half smile.

"Thank you." He said, putting as much sincerity into the words as he could.

Emma sighed. "You're not out of the woods yet. It sounds like you need a place to lie low for a few days."

Jefferson's eyebrows jumped. "Seems like…" He sighed.

Emma thought biting her lip, Storybrooke wasn't a large town; there were only so many places where Jefferson could hide…

"This is gonna take a lot of explaining to Mary Margaret…" She sighed.

Jefferson looked at her with his brow furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"You can hide in my apartment until this all blows over."

"Are you completely mad?"

Emma's eyebrows jumped up in surprise.

"Do you have a better idea?" she asked.

"You don't have to –"

"Jefferson, they think they've got me working for them, it's the safest place for you to be."

"I don't want to risk you getting too involved." Jefferson said.

"You should have thought of that before you tried to lock yourself in my jail cell."

Jefferson relented, but he asked:

"Why are you helping me?"

"Is this really something you should be questioning?" Emma asked quirking an eyebrow in amusement.

Jefferson shrugged. "They call me the crazy one but you are the one helping the man who held you and your – friend hostage, until you knocked me over the head with a telescope and then pushed me out a window… Come to think of it, maybe I _am_ crazy for trusting _you_."

Emma had to laugh at that.

"So why _are_ you helping me?" he asked.

Emma took a moment to reply. "Because crazy or not, I don't think you've done anything wrong… That and it will piss Regina right off…"

Jefferson nodded.

"Does that 'nothing wrong' include the holding you hostage?"

Emma whacked him on the arm and he laughed.

"Don't push your luck." She warned.

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Several hours later Jefferson and Emma stepped out of Emma's car in front of the house.

Jefferson eyed the door nervously. "Now, you're sure Mary Margaret won't try to kill me?" he asked.

Emma sighed. "Considering that for the time being she'd have to get through me to do it, probably not… That and she's just not the type. She's not home yet anyway, there was a meeting at the school for all the teachers this afternoon."

Emma opened the door and they entered the small apartment.

"You want a coffee or something?" Emma offered.

"Tea, would be lovely." He replied.

Emma fought back another wave of her conscience telling her how terrible this plan of hers was as she set about filling the kettle with water and getting it on the boil. They prepared the tea in a relative silence that wasn't entirely awkward, which was only broken by a few exchanges regarding milk and sugar. They sat at the kitchen table with their respective mugs and stared at each other, each waiting for the other to speak.

"Why me?" Emma asked so suddenly that Jefferson blinked before forming his answer.

He shrugged.

"Oh, come on! There has to be a reason." Emma pressed. "I couldn't have been your first choice for an ally."

Jefferson looked uncomfortable but relented.

"Actually, you were…. It involves the curse, Emma…" He said pleadingly.

Emma sighed. "Humor me. I'll listen, just this once, so tell it to me straight. Well, as straight as you're capable of telling it."

Jefferson scowled at her for a moment before beginning to speak:

"I don't have many friends, Emma. Never had much of a chance to make them being trapped inside that house."

"Well, if you tie up every visitor you get, I can see why." Emma quipped.

But at the wounded look on Jefferson's face, she apologized.

"Like I said on the night I visited you," he continued, "I apologize for my behavior _that_ night… some part of me knew that what I was doing was wrong, that holding you both hostage was wrong… but that was not the part that was in control at the time."

"What about the night you _visited_ me? Do you apologize for that too?"

Jefferson looked confused. "Should I?"

Emma snorted in amusement. "No, I suppose not."

"I enjoyed that night Emma, the night I visited you that is. I'm not in the habit of apologizing for things I enjoy."

"So you didn't enjoy holding us prisoner then?"

Jefferson shook his head.

"No, but…" he sighed, "I believe the ends justify the means, and getting back to my daughter… I just wanted it so much… I just wanted to see my Grace again."

Emma didn't say anything about his questionable parenthood.

"I know how it feels." She said.

Jefferson looked up at her in surprise, not expecting her sympathy.

"My son," she explained. "Henry was adopted by Regina… I never expected to love him the way I do, I never expected to _meet_ him, I never really wanted to. I gave him up when he was born, I just gave him away, and now that I have met him… now that I've seen how wonderful he is, I keep thinking how could I have ever done that? And I hate myself for it sometimes, that I let him be raised by such a blood-sucking witch like Regina…"

Emma wiped away the tears that had escaped her eyes angrily.

"I'm sorry," she said with a forced laugh. I didn't mean to get all emotional."

"It's ok," Jefferson said, "How old were you when you got pregnant?"

"Eighteen." Emma replied.

Jefferson nodded. "That's young. I was twenty when my Alice got pregnant, that was too young too, and I almost left them both."

"But you didn't?" Emma said, swallowing back her immediate response to Jefferson's madness which was to point it out.

Jefferson shook his head. "Fortunately for me, I realized in time that they were what I wanted, a family. And fortunately Alice was the forgiving sort."

"Alice is your wife?" Emma asked.

"Yes."

"What happened to her?"

Jefferson hesitated before uncovering those memories.

"She died," he said, "When Grace was just a baby, we took her to Wonderland, and Alice was trapped there… I never saw her again. When I was trapped there myself I found out that she had been tortured by the Queen of Hearts, and died in her dungeons."

"I'm sorry." Emma said, and Jefferson gave her a sad smile.

"That was a long time ago."

Whether or not the story was true, or whether or not Jefferson was simply crazy didn't matter to Emma in this moment, Jefferson certainly felt the pain of it real enough, and for that he earned her sympathy, despite that little voice in the back of her head telling her how bad an idea like that really was.

After a few moments of silence in which they finished their tea, Jefferson asked about taking a shower.

"Yeah, of course." Emma said, glad for the change of subject. "There are towels in the closet. I use men's shampoo; you can use that unless you'd _like_ to smell like passion fruit and mango…"

Jefferson smiled. "As long as it gets me clean, anything will do."

Emma had a smile on her face until he closed the bathroom door, then her smile melted and she sunk to the floor and groaned out her frustration and confusion at the surreal nature of the situation.

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Mary Margaret returned home a few minutes later, and Emma thanked whoever was responsible for the few minutes to break Jefferson's presence in their home to her gently.

"Hey!" Mary Margaret greeted brightly, setting a bag of groceries on the counter.

"Hey!" Emma replied, "How was work?"

"Oh, you know the usual. The kids are still all behaving like angels though, since I haven't given them any homework yet."

Emma laughed. "Give it time; they'll remember how mean you really are!"

Mary Margaret pretended to be offended.

"Just for that you get to go and bring in the rest of the groceries!"

Emma huffed, but got up and went out the door to pull the last two bags from Mary Margaret's car. When Emma returned all hell had broken loose.

Mary Margaret had Jefferson backed against the wall and was brandishing a kitchen knife in his face. His hair was still damp from his shower and his eyes darted from the knife, to Mary Margaret, and then to Emma nervously. So much for breaking it to her gently.

"How the hell did you get in here!" Mary Margaret was demanding.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Emma cried stepping between Mary Margaret's knife and Jefferson. "Mary Margaret, it's ok, I let him in."

"You _what_?" Mary Margaret exclaimed.

"Dr. Whale sent some men after him; I said he could stay here until they stop looking."

"What on _earth_ possessed you do to that?"

"Because I think Regina is behind it."

"Emma, did it ever occur to you that Regina might _know_ he's crazy, and want him locked up for a good reason?"

"Please, Mary Margaret, just trust me on this. He's not going to hurt us."

"How do you know?"

"Because I have nowhere else to go." Jefferson said.

Mary Margaret eyed him suspiciously then turned to Emma and pointed the knife at her.

"_You_ have a _lot_ of explaining to do… and _you_!" She turned back to Jefferson. "If you come anywhere near me, I _will_ kill you."

Jefferson nodded in understanding, and Mary Margaret pulled Emma upstairs into her bedroom.

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Emma relayed all of the past two days' events to Mary Margaret, and Emma could see that by the end of the story Mary Margaret somewhat agreed with Emma's decision, or at least could understand why she had mad it, even if she didn't want to admit it.

"But how do you know he's not lying, Emma?" Mary Margaret asked.

Emma gave her a look.

"Right, right, your 'superpowers…' But Emma, you've been wrong before, what if he's just a _really_ good liar?"

"Well, Dr. Whale isn't and he confirmed Jefferson's story when he searched the station."

Mary Margaret bit her lip in thought.

"I'm sorry Emma, I just can't trust him."

"We can handcuff him to my bed if that would make you feel better." Emma offered.

Mary Margaret burst into a fit of giggles despite herself.

"Kinky," she laughed, "But no, I don't think you have to do that."

Mary Margaret sighed. "Besides, we haven't heard him madly breaking the china…"

Emma smiled reassuringly, and took her friend's hand. "Talk to him? Just try and I'm sure you'll see."

Mary Margaret sighed again. "Fine. I'll try, for your sake… but I'm sleeping with the carving knife in my room!"

"That's completely your prerogative!" Emma laughed, but in her heart she felt a twinge of guilt over making Mary Margaret feel afraid in her own home.

Emma and Mary Margaret exited the room to find the groceries put away, and a full meal being prepared.

"If he poisons us, I'm blaming you." Mary Margaret whispered. "And I think I've changed my mind about the handcuffs…"

"Yeah, me too…" Emma replied.

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In the end they forced Jefferson to taste everything he had prepared before either one would eat it. He humored them without much protest. In the end the meal had been delicious much to Mary Margaret's chagrin, even if the atmosphere had been a bit tense. Little more than small talk was exchanged between Emma and Mary Margaret with Jefferson's eyes flicking between the two, watching them intently but not saying a word. It made Mary Margaret uneasy. Emma made a point of cleaning up to give Jefferson and Mary Margaret a moment to talk in private.

Mary Margaret leaned forward on her elbows and narrowed her eyes at Jefferson.

"Why did you kidnap us?" she demanded.

To Jefferson's credit he didn't seem fazed by the direct line of questioning.

"I needed Emma to fix my hat." He said.

Mary Margaret looked confused. "So what does that have to do with me?"

"You're her friend; I knew she would come after you."

Mary Margaret frowned. "And after she fixed your… hat. What would you have done? Killed us?"

"No," Jefferson said with as much sincerity as he could muster. "I would have let you both go."

Mary Margaret blinked. "Oh."

There was a pause in which Mary Margaret noted the innocence behind such thinking. If he let them go after kidnaping them, Emma was the sheriff, no doubt she would have come back with reinforcements and arrested him on the spot… well, Mary Margaret would have thought so until earlier this evening.

"Emma said you have a daughter." She commented, changing the subject.

Jefferson tensed at the mention of Grace, guilt and longing flooding him. Jefferson blinked back the tears that threatened, and swallowed past the lump that formed in his throat.

"Yes, her name is Grace." He said. "But people here call her Paige."

"Paige?" Mary Margaret asked, "Paige Driscoll?"

"Yes…" Jefferson answered warily. "Do you know her?"

Mary Margaret nodded. "She – She's in my class. I'm her teacher. So you're telling me, _you're_ her biological father?"

He nodded, his mind reeling at the revelation that in this world, she was adopted.

"Is she –"his voice broke. "Is she a good student?"

Suddenly Mary Margaret could see when she looked at him, that there was no way this man wasn't Paige Driscoll's biological father.

"She's one of the best." She said.

The details of how Paige had ended up in the care of her adoptive parents had never been explained to Mary Margaret, but it had been something Paige and Henry Mills had had in common, and that they had bonded over for a while like brother and sister. But then when Henry had started believing that everyone in Storybrooke were story book characters, she had been told to stay away from him as he'd been sharing his theories with her.

"Look," Mary Margaret said, "I don't trust you. I'll believe you about Paige, but I still don't trust you. But Emma is choosing to trust you, and to be perfectly honest I think she is as crazy as you are for doing so. You're not well, and you need help, far more than she can give you… so I'll give you this warning, you take advantage of her, if you use her, or hurt her, there is no where you can hide that I won't find you, and make you pay for anything you do to betray her… understand?"

It was then that Emma returned and Mary Margaret bid them both goodnight, but making a point to visibly bring the carving knife with her up the stairs to her bedroom.

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A/N: Next chapter has the smuts, I promise. If you're enjoying the story, why not say so? Reviews are like cookies, wonderful incentive, and I would love and cherish a simple "liked it!" as much as anything longer. Contrariwise, if you're not enjoying it, why not tell me? But I ask that it is done in the form of constructive criticism, where you tell me what you don't like and why, so that I can strive to improve my writing. Thanks for reading!


	3. Hearts

A/N: This is gonna be a long one… had lots to fit into this chapter. Once again, I make reference to "Stress Relief" in this chapter, so please, read it first if you haven't already. And a massive thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, or followed my story. I really appreciate the support!

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Chapter 3: Hearts

Emma had been hiding Jefferson for the better part of a week. Occasionally she would check up on his home to see if it was still being watched, it was. The situation was beginning to feel like Regina wasn't going to give up on forcing Jefferson into observed hospitalization. So Jefferson stayed, and stayed, and he was starting to drive Emma up a wall.

Firstly, he stared at her, _constantly_; and he'd do it with this smile on his face, like he knew something she didn't. The first time she'd caught him doing it she checked to see if her fly was undone, or if she had smeared what little make up she wore by rubbing her eyes. But no, nothing about her had been out of the ordinary. The second time she caught him doing it she'd demanded to know what he was staring at. The knowing smile had turned into a full-blown grin and he'd answered with a contrary: "Oh, nothing." Sometimes he looked inconsolably sad as he stared at her.

Second, if he wasn't staring, he was talking. The man just didn't shut up. He even talked in his sleep, something she'd discovered when she'd gotten up in the middle of the night to make herself a cup of hot chocolate. Most of the time it was just little obvious nothings that Emma realized must be a product of twenty-some-odd years of never having left his house or having another living soul to talk to, if his medical files were to be trusted. Emma figured that the constant monologue that most people make on the inside, he had externalized in an attempt to keep himself from going mad simply out of lack of human-contact. It was sad really; but sometimes she'd hear him using different tones or accents, and the hair on the back of Emma's neck would stand up from the reminder that the man who had been following her around like a cuddly pet had a side to himself that was desperate, dangerous, and very, very sick.

When he wasn't staring, or talking to himself while absorbed in his own little world, Jefferson would simply annoy her, like a bored child; throwing pens at her, or making odd noises repeatedly, pulling on her hair as he walked past her desk to get a cup of water, _anything_ to rip her attention away from her work and back to him. When he succeeded he would either grin madly and giggle like a toddler, or he would play innocent until she snapped at him and _then_ grin madly and giggle like a toddler.

All of this had been going on since his first night in the apartment and it was really starting to get on her nerves. He spent his nights with his wrists cuffed behind his back, and his days in Emma's office, trying to fight off boredom in the aforementioned ways.

Today he was making popping noises by smacking his lips together at regular and irregular intervals. After a saintly fifteen minutes of endurance, Emma could take it no longer.

"What are you, nine?" She snapped, whipping her pen at him, and he giggled with glee.

"I'm really having regrets about helping you!" She said, "If you don't knock it off, I'll call Dr. Whale right _now_!" She picked up the receiver on her phone menacingly, to make her point.

Jefferson sobered immediately and apologized. Emma blinked; his mercurial mood swings were giving her whiplash.

"Could I at least have a book?" He whined, "Or a deck of cards? _Something_?"

Emma reached into her desk drawer and tossed him a desk of Bicycle playing cards. They scattered across the floor.

"Lovely," he said with a grunt, "Fifty-two pick-up."

A few hours later, Emma was finally being productive with her day as Jefferson amused himself with her deck of cards; he muttered to himself as he played another game of what Emma assumed to be solitaire, when suddenly August walked through her door.

"Emma, we need to talk." He said, limping slightly.

Emma rubbed at her eyes. "No, we really don't August."

"Emma, _please_."

Jefferson cocked his head to one side and eyed the man who clearly knew Emma well. Well… well enough.

"I'm sorry," he interrupted, "We haven't been properly introduced."

Jefferson offered August his hand without standing from his slouched position in his chair. August eyed him right back and took the proffered handshake.

"August Booth," August said.

"Jefferson." Said Jefferson, "But Emma likes to call me the Mad Hatter."

Both, Jefferson and August glanced at her.

"You're new here" Jefferson grinned, "But no one's ever really new in this town."

"Emma, what's he doing here?" August asked accusingly.

Emma glanced over at Jefferson.

"I believe he's playing solitaire." She quipped.

August's jaw set and his mouth formed a straight line. "Do you have any idea who he is?"

"_He_ can hear you." Jefferson interjected.

"I know who he _thinks_ he is, if that's what you mean." Emma said, ignoring Jefferson.

August turned to Jefferson in surprise, "You remember."

Jefferson's head lolled to one side and he inspected August with a frown and narrowed eyes, "You're not very bright are you?"

"Do you remember?"

"Remember what?" Jefferson asked, playing coy, and then giggled.

But something about the way he laughed this time raised Emma's hackles. It was more… malicious, than usual, and she would know, she'd heard enough of his laughter throughout the week, but never had it been like this.

"Jefferson, are you alright?" She asked.

"Of course, Emma." He over-enunciated her name, and grinned at the flavour it left in his mouth. "I just find it funny that I've been where this wooden boy wants to go _so_ badly…" He giggled again, and turned back to his card game.

August tensed. "Emma, what is he talking about?"

"Nothing." She said quickly. "Could you leave now?"

"Emma, I don't think that's a good idea…"

"August, _please_." Emma pleaded; she needed to figure out what was wrong with Jefferson before he got violent.

"Emma – " August began, but he was cut off.

"Can't you see the lady doesn't want you, _Pinocchio_?" Jefferson snarled. "Run along and play with your strings and things, oh, that's right, I forgot, you don't have any…"

Emma took August by the arm and pulled him out the door before this altercation could come to blows.

"He's insane August, don't listen to him." She said as they stepped into the daylight.

August's jaw was still set in an angry line.

"Yeah, but not in the way you think." He said, "He's dangerous, Emma."

"I know that."

"So why is he _here_?"

"Because Regina is after him. She wants to lock him up because he's been in contact with me."

"Well, so has half the town, why is that such a problem now?"

"Jefferson thinks it's because she's afraid that I will start to believe in the curse."

August snorted. "Not much chance of that…"

Emma's frustration got the better of her.

"Look, I've got to try and get him under control…"

"Fine, but I do need to talk with you. Call me later, so I know he hasn't hurt you?"

Emma gave him a look.

"Emma, humor me, _please_."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Be careful, Emma." August said, and then he turned to go.

Emma watched him drive off before taking a deep breath and stepping back inside the station.

What she found was Jefferson holding a burning match up to one of the playing cards, and staring with dead eyes as it caught fire.

"Jefferson!" Emma yelled in terror at the prospect of what he could do with a lit match. She knocked the card and the match out of his hands onto the linoleum and quickly stamped out the fire.

"What the hell are you thinking?" She yelled. He looked at her dumbly for a moment, before shaking his head like there was water in his ear. He buried his face in his hands and tugged at his hair.

"She has to pay, she has to pay, she has to _burn_." He mumbled and Emma looked down at the singed card under her boot.

The queen of hearts.

Emma looked at the desk Jefferson had been using and saw the rest of the royal family were also scribbled over and lined up for execution. The queen had already been beheaded with scissors, stapled back together, and had been facing a trial by fire when Emma had interrupted him.

"Oh god, of course, the _cards_!" Emma sighed putting the pieces of his behavior together.

Emma crouched and picked up the damaged card.

"Jefferson," she said softly, putting her hand over his as it tore at his hair. He stilled at her touch and looked up, hot angry tears in his eyes making them a startling shade of green.

Emma smiled at him softly and made him watch as she took the queen of hearts between her fingers, and tore her head from her body once again. Jefferson's eyes snapped up to hers and he stared at her in wonder at seeing her so easily vanquish one of his demons, if only for the time being.

He poked at the card with one finger and the memories of her torture ran through his head once again, he blinked his eyes rapidly and wrinkled his nose to try and hold back the tears he couldn't control.

"I want to – to go home, Emma." He stuttered, struggling to get a hold of himself.

"I know," she said soothingly, her thumb rubbing the back of his hand where he clutched hers tightly. "But they're still watching it."

"No," Jefferson insisted, "I want to go _home_."

"You mean the fairytale land, with Grace."

Jefferson nodded, Emma couldn't say anything; the contrary words caught in the throat at seeing him so vulnerable.

"Take me home, Emma?" he pleaded.

"Jefferson, I can't—"

Jefferson shook his head.

"To your home, I mean; to the apartment. It doesn't hurt so much there…" He explained with a meaningful gesture at his head.

Emma smiled, sadly. "Yeah, I can do that."

Slowly she helped him stand and made him watch as she threw the deck of cards in the waste basket.

"I'll get you a book." She promised.

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The moment they were through the door Jefferson had curled himself up on the couch into a fetal position and groaned loudly.

Mary Margaret looked up from the book she had been reading in the armchair to the left of the couch. She blinked twice in surprise before commenting.

"I wasn't expecting you home this early… Is he alright?"

Emma sighed. "I gave him a pack of cards to play with so he'd stop bothering me, I think it triggered him, he's a bit better now, but I owe him a book."

Mary Margaret eyed the man curled up on her sofa warily.

"He's not going to attack us is he?"

"Will you _please_ stop talking about me like I'm not here?" He groaned, uncurling from the ball he'd put himself in. "If you can manage that, then I will promise not to 'attack' either of you."

Mary Margaret frowned but said nothing and went back to her book.

"I was thinking Chinese for dinner?" Emma asked, trying to break some of the tension in the room. "What do you think?"

"Yeah, sure, fine." Mary Margaret said, not looking at Emma.

Jefferson just groaned from where he lay, face-down in a throw pillow; Emma took it as a yes.

After dinner as Emma cleaned up, and Jefferson's eyes were glued to the TV set, Mary Margaret cornered her for a word.

"When is he going to leave, Emma?"

Emma sighed. "His house is still being watched, and I can't let him loose on the town…"

"Then let Regina have him."

Emma looked at her friend in horror.

"Emma! He'd be better off at the hospital where they can _help_ him. He's sick, he needs help."

"I _am_ helping him!" Emma insisted.

"You're not a professional, Emma! You don't know what he needs."

"I know he needs a friend!"

"And you're going to be his friend? Really? After everything he's done, after he held us _hostage_ at _gun point_? You really want to be that sort of man's friend?"

"He doesn't have any one else, Mary Margaret."

"Emma, I am sleeping with a knife under my pillow! A _knife_, Emma! And I'm terrified that one of these days I'm going to have to use it… I'm sorry but I can't be a part of this any longer. Either you find somewhere else to put him by the end of the week, or I call Dr. Whale myself."

Mary Margaret turned, stormed out of the room, up the wrought iron steps, and slammed the door to her bedroom.

Emma was stunned. She felt like the worst person in existence for making her friend feel afraid in her own home, but she couldn't bring herself to turn her back on Jefferson either.

So Emma did what she always did in such situations, and made herself a cup of hot chocolate with cinnamon, and added a shot of bourbon.

She had just wrapped her hands around the comforting warmth of the mug and taken the first few sips, savouring the feel of the bourbon burning its way down to her stomach, when Jefferson made himself known by peeking over the top of the couch.

"Are you alright?" He asked, staring at her with a distinctly guilty look on his face.

"Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I be?" she replied forcing a smile.

"I heard you and Mary Margaret fight." He admitted. "Actually, it was hard _not_ to hear you fight…"

Emma's face fell immediately.

"I'll leave tomorrow." He said.

"No, Jefferson, I said you could stay here until they left you alone."

Jefferson huffed in amusement at her adherence to her word despite the fight she'd just had with her mother-friend.

"As much as I appreciate that Emma, I don't think Mary Margaret will allow it, and I don't want you getting into trouble for helping me."

Emma sighed. "Thank you, Jefferson."

Jefferson gave a sad smile.

There was a moment of silence in which Jefferson sat next to Emma at the breakfast bar as she sipped her alcoholic cocoa.

"Did you mean what you said?" He asked without looking at her, and Emma could swear he sounded embarrassed. "About being my friend?"

He did meet her eyes then, and they had a child-like hope in them.

Emma smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I did."

Jefferson smiled, and it was a thing of beauty, because there was no madness or malice behind it to twist it, it was just a smile, just an honest expression of the emotion he felt right at that moment materializing on his face, and Emma couldn't help but smile back.

"Where will you go?" She asked.

Jefferson shrugged. "There's a convent in town, yeah? Aren't convents supposed to grant people sanctuary?"

Emma laughed. "I'm not gonna lie, the only time I've ever seen that work was in the Hunchback of Notre Dame…. Why don't you just leave town?"

"I'm insane, not suicidal…" He replied.

Emma sighed. "Oh, right, the curse, no one can leave Storybrooke… So how come August and I were able to leave just the other night?"

Jefferson's head snapped around to her. "You left Storybrooke? Why?"

"It's a long story, besides it wasn't the first time."

Jefferson was looking at her like she'd just kicked a puppy, a puppy that may have actually been him.

"I came back!" she heard herself reassure him.

Jefferson frowned.

"So how did you come to be acquaintances with 'August Booth?'" she could hear the parentheses in his tone, and she rolled her eyes.

"You know if I didn't know better, I'd say you were jealous."

Jefferson didn't say anything; he just played with a spatula that had been left on the counter.

Emma swallowed the last few mouthfuls of now-luke-warm alcoholic cocoa and set the mug on the counter with a satisfying "thunk."

"So…" she said, standing.

"So." Jefferson replied.

"We should probably go to bed; I have to be up early for work tomorrow."

The corner of Jefferson's mouth tipped up, at the memory of a conversation long past.

"Tomorrow is Saturday." He stated, echoing himself from a few weeks ago, and Emma rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Still, I should probably get some sleep; it's been a long day." She replied.

"Yeah."

"So I'll just get the handcuffs and… um… Jefferson, what are you doing?"

As Emma spoke Jefferson had moved so that he stood toe-to-toe with her, so close that their hands brushed as they breathed. Their eyes locked in an intense stare, similar to the ones they'd shared when she'd been a captive in his house.

Emma's finger twitched towards him at the electric feeling of his hand brushing against hers, and they seemed to communicate without speaking as Jefferson took a step forward and Emma took a step back. This continued with the grace of a practiced dance until they had entered Emma's bedroom, how they got up the stairs, Emma wasn't sure, and something in her brain helpfully pointed out that if this was a dance it would probably be labeled a tango.

"Jefferson, what are you doing?" Emma asked again.

He was radiating an air of danger that got Emma somewhere primal and _pulled_. She had felt this before in his house, granted to a considerable lesser degree on account of the fear that had taken precedence in that moment, but she recognized it, the electric chemistry between them that made this dangerous man irresistible in all the worst ways. Emma knew this was wrong, this was _so_ wrong in _so_ many ways, but she couldn't help but want it too.

Jefferson's hands began to skim up her arms, not touching her, but raising goose bumps on her skin and sending a tingle of anticipation up her spine none-the-less. Emma swallowed and licked her lips; her mouth had suddenly gone bone-dry.

"Jefferson," she tried one last time, "What are you doing?"

His eyes jumped back up to meet hers and Emma could see that his pupils were blown wide with desire. Emma shivered.

"Seducing you." He said lowly, and Emma had to take a breath to steady herself at the realization that he knew _exactly_ what he was doing. She broke eye contact with him to try and regain some control over her body.

"That's not a good idea." She said shakily.

Jefferson's head cocked to one side and he looked genuinely confused as to why she though sex with him was a bad thing.

"Why not?" he asked.

"It's just not." she replied lamely, "We can't."

"Why? Denying the fact that this attraction exists isn't going to make it go away."

"Neither will doing this, besides it's wrong, Jefferson!"

"Because I'm insane?" He asked without malice.

"Because you can't _tell_ that it's wrong." She corrected.

Jefferson's lips pursed and his eyebrows twitched as his gaze dropped to somewhere around her belly-button.

"Perhaps," he said, his fingers playing with her belt loops. "But so far, you've not given me a reason as to why you think it's wrong, and I can't help but think that it's because you can't think of one…"

"It – It's not – Jefferson, I'm too involved as it is, I'm getting too… attached, and that's not a good place for me to be if I'm going to help you. I won't be able to think clearly. If you're found with me I could lose my job as it is! You held me hostage! You're not well!"

But all that Jefferson seemed to have heard was that she was getting attached to him, and he had begun advancing on her again with a smug grin on his face, backing her against a wall, and he met her eyes again as she spoke. His hands retraces their earlier path up her arms, touching her this time, and they skimmed across her clavicles and one snaked around her neck to cradle her jaw.

"You want me." He stated simply.

"I want to _help_ you." Emma corrected.

Jefferson smirked. "That too, but your body is betraying you, Emma. You can't lie to me. You. Want. Me. You want me almost as much as I want you." He confessed.

"Jefferson, please." She whimpered. Though whether it was for him to stop or continue even she wasn't sure.

"What, Emma? Please, what? Tell me to stop and I will, but until you _say_ it… Until you _mean_ it…." He trailed off as his head dipped and he hovered just above her lips, so close that they brushed hers when she spoke again. "Until then, I'm going to take what I want."

Jefferson kissed with his whole body, simultaneously pressing her into the wall while his hand angled her head so that he had better access to her mouth. His tongue slipped past her lips momentarily to taste her, and then left just as quickly to tease her and entice her into responding for him.

Emma was still resisting, though just barely, and her hands were fisted in his shirt, half pulling him closer, half poised to shove him away at any second. But she didn't, and she was slowly coming to the realization that she probably wasn't going to; it felt too good, it had been too long. That night two weeks ago had only whetted her appetite for him and now that she was being offered the full dish she was finding it increasingly difficult to see why she had insisted that this was wrong just moments ago.

She returned his kiss tentatively and Jefferson smirked into her lips as he felt her resistance crumble faster and faster from there. He was right, this just felt so damn good, and as much as it hurt her pride to admit it she wanted this.

Her hands wound around his neck, pulling his head closer and he devoured her mouth. Her fingers stroked the silk of his cravat and tugged the ends loose from his waistcoat. She loosened the knot and slipped the silk out from under his collar the fabric making a soft hissing sound. Jefferson stiffened and his eyes went wide with panic as her fingers met the naked skin of his neck. He stared at her, waiting for her to notice the scar, waiting for her face to twist with revulsion, the way his did whenever he caught sight of it in the mirror. But it never came, Emma's fingers simply traced the mark which was all that remained of that impossible injury, and she looked at it curiously, before tilting her head up to kiss him again.

Jefferson didn't know whether he should feel relief or giddiness at her acceptance of his deformity, so he decided on both, and he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her away from the wall. He wasn't looking to dominate her, this wasn't about power. He wanted her to want this, he wanted her to enjoy it, he wanted her to think about it when she lay alone in bed at night after he was gone. He wanted her to feel safe around him. He wouldn't hurt her again if he could help it, he didn't want her to look at him with fear in her eyes. Spinning her around him he placed her lightly on her bed and leaned down to cover her body with his. His hands worked their way under her top and his thumbs stroked her stomach in small circles.

"Just tell me to stop, and I will." Jefferson said against her lips, and he waited a moment for her to reply before capturing them in another kiss.

He pulled her up into a sitting position as he pulled off her top. Emma worked on the buttons of his waistcoat and pushed it off his shoulders before starting in on his shirt. She had it half-unbuttoned when she spotted the grey undershirt beneath the red-printed silk.

"How many layers do you have?" She gasped in frustration.

Jefferson was having his own difficulties with Emma's bra.

"Why on earth do women wear these?" he growled his fingers slipping from it for the fifth time.

Emma reached back and batted his hands away, before undoing the clasp deftly. Jefferson looked at her with something akin to awe as he removed his shirts, and Emma had to laugh. He swooped in for another kiss, cutting her off and pushing her back down on the bed. Emma's hands dropped to his waist tracing the line of hair that led from his navel to his groin, and the muscles of his stomach tightened reflexively.

"Are you ticklish?" Emma asked, a slow smile spreading across her face.

Jefferson chuckled from here he was nibbling on the skin of her neck, the sensation made Emma shiver.

"No comment." He said.

Emma brushed her fingers lightly up his sides and grinned wickedly as he shied away from her touch. Jefferson growled at her triumphant smile and set about wiping it off her face as he made her gasp with pleasure when his lips latched onto one of her nipples.

Emma's hands flew to the back of his head of their own accord to keep him in place. Through a haze of pleasure Emma's legs parted and Jefferson moved to rest in the cradle of her hips. His erection pressed hard into her core lifted the fog of pleasure a bit, and she began to question the situation again, but then his tongue laved across her nipple and his teeth grazed across the underside of her breast all her thoughts promptly deserted her once again. Jefferson's hands were working on getting her jeans and panties off, and Emma raised her hips to help him, locking her ankles around his waist when he succeeded.

Jefferson took a moment to lean back and appreciate the woman he had in front of him. Her green eyes were half-lidded with desire, her cheeks were flushed, her lips red and kiss-swollen, and her hair was a golden halo about her head where it had tumbled onto her pillow. His gaze moved lower and her nipples pebbled from the cold, but also from the effect he was having on her, he liked to think. The dusky colour of her nipples and a few stretch-marks on her belly and thighs gave away the fact that she had experienced pregnancy, but Jefferson had only respect for the women who had given birth to a child. It would certainly never diminish his desire for her.

Jefferson's very male urge to _look_, also gave Emma a lovely view of the man currently in her bed. He was attractive, she had known that since the moment she'd met him, and that was a fact that extended into the bedroom. He had nicely shaped shoulders and arms, with long nimble fingers whose merits Emma had been on the receiving end of two weeks ago. There was a light smattering of hair across his toned chest, which drew Emma's eye down to the flat tight muscles of his stomach. Emma shivered; he was _definitely_ an attractive man, all masculinity, but there was a tenderness to him that may have stemmed from fatherhood, if he really was a father that is. Emma's eyes trailed downwards and was met with the impediment of his trousers. She reached for them, undoing the button and tugging down the zip.

Jefferson's eyes had fluttered closed automatically at the sensation. It had been so long since he'd touched another human being fully clothed, let alone skin-to-skin…

"Off," Emma demanded, bringing him out of his reverie with a sharp tug at his waistband. He smirked at her before complying, pushing down his trousers and briefs in one fluid movement, before returning to his original place between her thighs.

This had given Emma a good eyeful and she licked her lips as she felt their naked skin in contact. Jefferson's mouth was over her nipple again, his hands playing her like an instrument he'd learned the ins-and-outs of ages ago, but this time Emma was determined to make sure that Jefferson was left as satisfied as she had been. Through her pleasure, Emma reached down between them and wrapped her hand around his erection, and began to stroke it, up and down. Her thumb running across the head, on each upstroke.

Jefferson gasped, his hips jerking at her touch and his eyes closed in pleasure. It had been a _very_ long time since he'd been in bed with anyone. Like any male he had sought relief from his hand during his twenty-eight year imprisonment in his house, and before that too when his Alice had been lost, but he'd almost forgotten how it felt to be with someone else, nothing could compare.

Eventually Jefferson's mind cleared enough that he remembered to give to Emma, as well as receive. His lips dove to hers, and he kissed her hungrily. His fingers toyed with her clit and stroked her folds; he smirked to himself as he felt that she was already wet with desire for him. He pushed two fingers inside her and stroked her clit with his thumb, his mouth was still on her breast and Emma was once again caught up in pleasure. Her body hummed and she felt her core begin to tighten with the first stirrings of orgasm.

"Jefferson," she panted, pushing him away. She circled her hips up so that they ground against his erection, telling him what she wanted. He growled and lined himself up; Emma tensed as the head of his cock pressed against her intimately.

"Emma," he breathed restraining himself from simply burying himself inside her and possessing her completely.

"Last chance," he panted, "Tell me to stop."

Emma looked at him through clouded eyes, and did exactly the last thing he had expected from her.

She flipped them over and lowered herself onto him so suddenly that he cried out in surprise, it trailed off into a groan as she began to move over him sending sparks up and down his spine. She rode him hard, and all he could do was grip her hips and hold on.

Emma was close, the foreplay had been just enough and now she was desperately reaching for that peak. But the more she strained, the further away it drifted, Emma's brow furrowed in frustration.

Jefferson must have sensed what was wrong because he sat up suddenly, one arm wrapping around her back to support her, his hand cradling her neck.

"Relax," he said calmly, and his thumb moved to rub at her clit in tight circles. Emma gasped, the pleasure reigniting with a vengeance. She gripped his shoulders tightly and threw her head back, and his lips attacked her neck as he began to move inside her once more. He nibbled his way up to her earlobe and with his lips brushing her ear gently he whispered. "Let go, Emma."

It was all she needed and her body tensed, her inner walls clenched and rippled around him tightly. Emma cried out as she came, she _glowed_ as the ecstasy tore through her.

Seeing Emma come undone triggered his own orgasm and Jefferson gasped and shuddered, his cock pulsing in time to her heartbeat, his eyes squeezing tight as his mind went deliciously, mercifully still, and calm. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and held her to him tightly. Emma's head was rested on his shoulder and she hummed contentedly, her fingernails tracing whorling patterns on his back.

They stayed like that for a long time, before Jefferson's cock went soft and he slipped out of her. Emma groaned at the stretched feeling between her legs as she lay back on the bed. Jefferson lay next to her, they were both still breathing heavily and their skin glistened in the dim light from the sheen of sweat that covered them.

"Still think that was a bad idea?" Jefferson asked, his voice was rough.

Emma sighed in contentment, and answered him without looking at him.

"Probably, but it was a very good, bad idea… like an extra slice of cheesecake…"

Jefferson chuckled at the analogy.

Emma stared down their bodies and realized that she was still wearing the fuzzy pair of slipper-socks that she'd gotten into the habit of wearing around the apartment when the floor boards were freezing during the winter months. She wiggled her toes, and Jefferson gave a snort of amusement.

"I should probably get back to the couch." He said.

Emma frowned, her brain was still a bit short-circuited, he observed with male pride.

"Mary Margaret wouldn't be too happy to find us like this in the morning." He clarified.

"Yeah, you're probably right." She relented, turning over and snuggling up to her pillow.

Jefferson frowned and fought back the urge to insist she cuddle with _him_ for a while. It felt so good to be close, but instead he dressed and brushed a kiss into her hair as he went to leave.

"Goodnight, Emma." He said.

"Goodnight, Jefferson." She replied, already half asleep.

Jefferson made his way into the living room, only to stop dead in his tracks when he spotted Mary Margaret in the kitchen holding a mug in her hand.

They stared at each other awkwardly for a few moments, Mary Margaret glaring, Jefferson blinking rapidly, trying to come up with a plausible excuse as to why he was exiting Emma's room in the middle of the night, no doubt looking thoroughly disheveled.

Mary Margaret's eyebrows rose expectantly.

Jefferson opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.

In the end, Mary Margaret put the mug in the sink, walked up to him, prodded him in the chest with one finger and said:

"Just a friendly reminder, you hurt her; I hunt you down and leave you as mincemeat for bears."

Mary Margaret grinned at him sweetly, like she hadn't just threatened his life.

"Ok?" she asked.

Jefferson nodded, there really wasn't much else he could say to that, and she went back to bed. He decided it would be best not to tell Emma about this encounter.

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A/N: There you have it, smut. Don't forget to review! Reviews are cookies, I love cookies!


	4. Grant Me Asylum

A/N: Sorry for the delay, a combination of sitting my final exams and moving back to the U.S. for the summer delayed my writing schedule. With any luck it should be back to normal now, at least somewhat.

Also: Thank you so much for the tremendous support for the last chapter, I hope I can live up to everyone's expectations! And so without further delay, I give you; chapter 4.

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Chapter 4: Grant me Asylum

Jefferson left the following morning, as he had promised the night before. He apologized to Mary Margaret for any anxiety or inconvenience he may have caused with his presence in her home, then he turned to Emma and thanked her for her kindness and for her hospitality with a wicked glint in his eye. Then he turned and walked out the door.

The apartment seemed to heave a sigh of relief as the door shut behind him and then went still, maddeningly still.

With a jolt Emma realized that she was going to miss the infuriating man who stared at her and never stopped talking, and annoyed the dickens out of her. She missed him and he'd only been gone for thirty seconds.

Oh, bugger.

Not ten minutes later there was a knock on the door and Emma blinked in surprise as she found herself nose-to-nose with August Booth.

"August!" Emma cried, "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?" He asked.

"Yeah, sure." Emma stepped aside, and then closed the door after he stepped past her into the house.

"You didn't call." He said, after glancing around the room and greeting Mary Margaret with a nod and tight smile. "I was worried about you."

"Oh—oh! I'm sorry; I was completely side-tracked last night!" Emma tried not to blush at the memory.

August nodded. "Is Jefferson still here?"

"No, he left this morning."

"But he stayed the night?"

Emma's hackles raised, she didn't like this line of questioning.

"Yes, he did." She said, widening her chance and crossing her arms over her chest defiantly; daring him to question her right to make her own decisions.

"And?" August pressed.

"And, what? Nothing happened!" Emma immediately dropped her arms and moved around the counter to the sink, avoiding eye-contact with him.

Mary Margaret gave a snort of amusement from where she sat in the corner. Both Emma and August turned to stare at her in surprise.

"Don't look at me!" she said, raising both hands defensively. "This is between the two of you!"

August looked back at Emma with a hurt look on his face.

"What?" She cried, "It was nothing!"

"He is dangerous, Emma!" August yelled.

"You think I don't know that?" She yelled back. "He held Mary Margaret and me hostage!"

"He _what_?"

"Mary Margaret and _I_." Mary Margaret corrected from the corner.

"He kidnapped Mary Margaret to get at me, so that I would 'fix his hat with magic' so that he could take his daughter and go 'home.'"

"And did you?" August looked half-hopeful.

"Of course not!"

"So after all that you decided that helping him would be a good idea? You know; I really worry about you sometimes, Emma."

Emma huffed in frustration.

"Look, I don't have to justify myself to you."

"I think you do if you don't want me to call Regina right now and tell her you were hiding him…"

Emma's jaw clenched. "You wouldn't dare."

"You willing to take that chance?" August said as he fished his phone out of his pocket.

Emma and August stared at each other tensely for a long time before August broke it with a curse.

"Dammit, Emma!" he yelled, "You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, do you?"

"Actually, I have every idea of what I'm getting myself into; which is nothing!"

August and Emma glared at each other again.

"Fine." August bit out. "But don't come running to me when this all blows up in your face!" Then he stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Emma didn't relax until she heard his motorcycle rumble off into the distance. Then she threw herself onto the couch and groaned in frustration.

Mary Margaret moved from her place in the arm chair to the arm rest of the couch.

"You ok?" She asked softly.

Emma merely groaned again as she realized that the couch still smelled like Jefferson's cologne. Mary Margaret stood and made her way over to the stove to put some milk on a simmer for a cup of cocoa. When the milk was warm enough she added a few tablespoon of the cocoa powder, and sugar, before stirring in a pinch of cinnamon as well. She brought the mug over to Emma and nudged her with her toe to indicate for Emma to move over before she sat down and handed Emma the steaming cup.

Emma frowned at the cup but sipped at it anyway, and whispered a forlorn; "Thank you."

They sat in silence for a few moments, each woman nursing her respective mug of cocoa. Eventually it was Mary Margaret who broke the silence.

"I saw Jefferson leave your room last night." She admitted, biting her lip.

Emma's eyes went wide with horror. "Are you mad?" she asked.

"No," Mary Margaret replied. "I can't say I'm all that surprised either, but I am curious as to why Jefferson, when you've got a guy like August at your beck-and-call."

Emma sighed, swirling her cocoa gently around in her mug, and biting her lip in thought. "I think it's cause with Jefferson, everything is simple. He may be completely cuckoo for cocoa-puffs but he always tells it to me straight. August never does, he's hiding something from me, and I can tell it's something massive. So I can't trust him like that as long as he's keeping secrets from me."

"And you can trust Jefferson?" Mary Margaret asked without any real judgment in her voice, just caution.

"I can trust that anything he tells me is the god's honest truth as far as he knows it. He's never hiding what he thinks, or what he wants, he just tells me; and in my life, I see that as a virtue."

"But he's _dangerous_, Emma…"

"Yeah, I can't trust him not to tie me up and force me to make a hat again, but I know that he's unpredictable, and in a weird way that makes him less of a threat…" Mary Margaret was giving her a look. "Hey, I know it sounds crazy, but this week I've started to be able to see the signs of his violent periods, and been able to calm them before they start. And I think after this week that he knows if he wants my help, he should try to ask for it first."

Mary Margaret tilted her head to one side. "Do you love him?"

"What? _No_! Where'd you get that idea?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "Just checking."

"No! Oh god, no! I don't."

"But you _could_." This wasn't a question.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on Emma! I've been here all week, watching you two; he may have been driving you crazy, but he was also making you _laugh_!"

Emma frowned. "But it's wrong."

Mary Margaret shrugged. "Probably, but since when had that ever stopped two people from having feelings for each other before?" She looked at Emma meaningfully.

Emma's cell phone started ringing in her pocket, and she frowned when she saw Dr. Whale's number on the caller ID.

"Hello?" She said, answering the call.

"Sheriff Swan, I was just calling to let you know that we've apprehended Mr. Lake."

Emma's mind exploded into a flurry of thoughts and questions.

"Sheriff Swan, are you there?" the doctor questioned when she didn't say anything.

"What? Oh! Yes, sorry – How – Where did you find him?"

He was sneaking around some backyards. The bulletin that the mayor passed around with his picture made sure that the town was on the lookout for him… someone recognized him, and called it in to the hospital. I just thought you'd like to know."

"Yes, thank you, Dr. Whale, I appreciate it."

"Have a good day, Emma."

"You too, Dr. – Wait! Would it be possible for me to come into the hospital, to question Jeff – Mr. Lake?"

"I don't see why not, Sheriff."

"Thank you Dr. Whale, I'll be by in a little while."

"Very well, Sheriff Swan. Until later then."

Emma hung up and stared numbly at the dark fireplace.

"Emma? What is it?" Mary Margaret asked.

"Someone saw Jefferson and called it in… They've got him."

Mary Margaret nodded. "Maybe it's for the best, Emma. They can help him there."

"No. Mary Margaret, you don't understand if he needed help why didn't Regina have him brought into the hospital before? His records say that he was always the way he is now… This is her getting even with him, or me, for _something_, and that means they're not going to help him. She's going to make him disappear."

"And he'd never see his daughter again…" Mary Margaret finished.

"What?" Emma asked in confusion.

"His daughter, Paige, he'd never see her again if he's locked up in the hospital."

Emma frowned. "You _believe_ that?"

"Of course! Paige is in my class."

"But her parents…"

"She's _adopted_, Emma. Didn't you know that?"

Emma reeled. "Oh my god… he's actually a father?"

"Yes."

"I've gotta go!" Emma said, snatching up her car keys, and pulling on her jacket.

"Where are you going?"

"To Town Hall, and then to the hospital. I'm not gonna let Regina get away with this…"

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At the Town Hall Emma asked to see anything pertaining to Paige Driscoll. She was handed a file with her birth certificate, her adoption papers, and various legal papers that accompanied each. There was nothing out of the ordinary in either. The orphanage reported that she had been dropped off there as a baby by the Mother Superior of the church after she had been left on the convent's back step. She was then quickly picked up by Sarah and Patrick Driscoll, a lovely couple who were unable to conceive but desperately wanted a child of their own. Every once in a while a social worker from the orphanage would stop by to talk to Paige and found that she was a happy, bright child. Turning to the next page of the reports, a loose newspaper clipping slipped out from between the pages.

Emma picked it up and read the headline:

'**Eccentric Town Millionaire Declared Mentally Unstable After Claiming That Daughter Was Kidnapped Ten Years Ago**.'

The article had been slipped between the social worker's reports and a request for a paternity test made by the state. It had been done in secret while Jefferson was locked in the hospital for observation and the results were labeled "confidential." The test had come back positive, proving Jefferson as Paige's biological father, and the next sheet of paper was a copy of a memo by Regina to Dr. Whale that they would never make these results public, to "protect" Paige from her crazy father.

So it was true, Paige Driscoll's real name was Grace Lake; and she was Jefferson's daughter. Emma absently wondered who had named her. The poor girl may want to stick with Paige Driscoll if she ever did meet her father, 'Lake' was simply and unfortunate last name as no matter the given name, the surname denoted the person as a large body of water…

Photocopying the files she wanted, Emma returned the folders to the book keeper and then set off for the hospital to see Jefferson.

She was greeted in the lobby by Dr. Whale.

"Sheriff Swan, he's been asking for you specifically." He said as they started towards the elevator.

Emma frowned. "Did you tell him I was coming?"

"No, but the minute we got him to a room, he started calling for you, the mayor, and for someone named 'Grace.' Does that name sound familiar?"

"It's his daughter." Emma said, as she and the doctor stepped into the elevator.

"Oh, you mean from his fantasy."

"Listen, Doc, Jefferson may be certifiable, but his daughter is not a part of it." She lifted the files in her hand. "And you know it as well as I do."

By this time they'd arrived at the basement level and the doors opened.

Dr. Whale looked uncomfortable. "Miss Swan those documents were classified…"

"I'm the Sheriff; I have every right to see those documents."

Dr. Whale barred her passage down the hall. "Sheriff I must ask you to promise me that you will not make that information public…"

Emma stared at him. "I have no intention of making it _public_, Dr. Whale. But Jefferson does deserve to know that he's not as crazy as _some_ people would have him think… Now you said he was asking for Regina? Is she going to come?"

"Yes," the doctor said warily, stepping aside so that they could continue towards Jefferson's cell once again, he was clearly conflicted over Emma's response, torn between his agreement with Regina to keep Paige's parentage a secret, and Jefferson's right to know. "She should be here shortly."

Emma nodded, and they stopped in front of a cell with the name 'J. Lake,' printed on the card next to the door. Dr. Whale opened up the sliding door to the viewing window to check that the room was safe to enter. Then, he took his keys and opened the door, allowing Emma to step through before locking it behind her again.

"Yell, when you want to leave." He said through the slot.

Then Emma and Jefferson were left alone.

"Yell when you want to leave?" A voice mumbled from the darkened corner. "Everyone in this place is yelling to leave; they'll not make an exception for you… And you're a fool to think it."

He looked terrible, certainly a far-cry from the man he'd been while in her bed the night before. His expensive clothes had been taken from him, and replaced with grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He had been forced into a strait-jacket as well, probably because of a violent struggle to put him in the cell. He was slumped to one side, and had a black eye and a bruised lip. He didn't open his eyes until she said his name, and even then only the good-eye would open.

"Emma! Thank god you're here!" His voice was thick from the drugs in his system, and his eyes were dilated. "I've had this itch on my nose for the past hour. Would you mind terribly –?"

Emma reached over and scratched her nails up and down his nose.

"Ah… thank you." He sighed. "How did you know I was here?"

"Dr. Whale called me when they caught you… I told him I wanted to come and question you."

He blinked slowly, watching her as she moved closer and knelt beside him as he slumped on his cot. He was having a hard time focusing on her face.

"I need to show you something." Emma said, drawing his attention to the folder from the Town Hall with her photocopies. She selected one piece of paper in particular and held it up in front of his face.

"What is it?" He asked, squinting at the paper.

"It's a paternity test." She said.

"You're pregnant?" He had a does-not-compute look on his face and Emma sighed.

"It's a paternity test for Paige."

Jefferson's eyes jumped up to her. "_Paige_ is pregnant!"

Emma stifled a bark of laughter and his drugged-up panic. "No, it confirms that she is yours." Emma said with a small smile. "I know it's of little consequence now, but there's proof that you're not as insane as I initially thought."

Jefferson smiled up at her loopily, the drugs making him think of her words as a compliment where he really ought to have been offended. "Where'd you find this?" He asked.

"At Town Hall; hidden in plain sight."

"So… you believe me now?" There was a heart wrenching amount of hope in his voice.

Emma paused. "…About this, yes."

"The rest of it is true too." He insisted.

Emma sighed. "Let's not get into that now…"

"What are you going to do?" Jefferson asked, trying to shift in his jacket.

"Well, I'm going to help you. Firstly, I'm getting you out of this jacket, this is completely a breach of cruel and unusual punishment, then I'm going to get you out of here; you don't deserve to be locked up… and now that I can help you with your daughter, I will."

He nodded, gravely. "They want me to disappear, Emma. They want to take my daughter from me; they want me to forget… Am I going to be left here?" He asked, he sounded childish with his eyes wide with terror and his voice small and frightened.

Emma restrained the impulse to reach out and smooth back his hair comfortingly.

"No," She said, "I won't let them keep you here without a fight."

He smiled, fighting to stay awake now, through the haze of drugs. "I'm glad you're here, Emma." He slurred. "I don't like it here though, too many angry voices. I like your apartment better, it's nice there, with the puffy couch, and I like your room especially… especially if you're in your room."

"I like you in my room too, but you can't talk about the apartment when you're in here, Jefferson."

He frowned. "Why not?"

"They can't know you were with me, remember? If they find that out then I can't help you anymore."

Jefferson nodded. "It'll be our little secret." He giggled madly. "I like secrets, Emma."

Emma stood as she heard the door open, and Regina stepped into the room. She stopped and scowled when she spotted Emma.

"What is _she_ doing here?" Regina growled.

"I'm here to question Mr. Lake. I'm the _sheriff_, it's my _job_ to be involved with these cases wouldn't you agree Madame Mayor?

Regina's scowl deepened and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Jefferson's head lolled and he caught sight of Regina.

"Make her go away." He said. "I don't want to talk to her, I don't like her."

Regina's scowl turned on Jefferson. "Let me have a word with Mr. Lake in private, Sheriff Swan?"

"He doesn't want to talk to you Mayor, as he just said, and seeing as I can't imagine why you would be involved in this case you can say whatever you want to say in front of me." Emma crossed her arms over her chest defiantly.

Regina gave her a curt smile. "Dr. Whale!" she called and the next thing Emma knew she was being hauled out of Jefferson's cell by the two burly men who'd searched her office.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff Swan, Mayor Mills is Jefferson's emergency contact, so she has special privileges to a private meeting with him." Dr. Whale said sympathetically.

"Of course, she does." Emma huffed. "I'll be back." She said. "Don't let him be moved anywhere or anything without me knowing, got it?"

"Of course, Sheriff."

Emma left the hospital, got into her bug, and started to make her way to the Driscoll's family residence.

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Regina and Jefferson stared daggers at each other across the room.

"Hello, your majesty." Jefferson sneered, breaking the silence.

Regina frowned. "Really Jefferson, I didn't want to have to do this, but you've given me no choice."

Jefferson snorted. "By making friends?"

"You're keeping very dangerous company, I can promise you that."

"Because she's the one who can break the curse and ruin your little plans?" Jefferson flashed a winning smile, and Regina's scowl deepened.

"I'm here to make a deal with you, Jefferson… and you're trying my patience."

Jefferson's jaw tensed. "What deal?" He bit out through clenched teeth.

Regina's smile returned with a vengeance. "I'm going to let you go free… _if_ you'll do one simple thing in return: cease all contact with Miss Swan."

Jefferson pursed his lips, as if he were thinking it over. "And why wouldn't I just let her help me out of here?"

"Because Jefferson, Monday morning you'll be going before a judge for a hearing and Dr. Whale will be giving his professional medical opinion about your mental state, and your ability to take care of yourself, and your likelihood to harm yourself or others… At my nod he could give a report that would let you walk free. Or…" Regina took his face in her hand and squeezed his jaw between her fingers. "He could give a report that will make sure you never see the light of day for the rest of your miserable life…"

Regina patted his cheek a little harder than necessary. "Do we have a deal?" She asked, and her voice was like candy-coated poison, and Jefferson saw that he had no choice but to swallow this bitter pill.

Jefferson took a breath. "Don't have much of a choice do I? I'd shake on it but – " He shimmied his shoulders and arms in the strait-jacket meaningfully.

Regina smiled triumphantly and stood. "You do have a choice Jefferson, you always have a choice. Just make sure you make the right one." She called for Dr. Whale. "I don't think Mr. Lake will be needing these restraints, doctor." She said sweetly.

"Of course, Mayor." He replied and asked for one of his staff to let Jefferson free.

"I'll see you on Monday, Jefferson. Behave yourself." She said, as she passed out the door.

Jefferson scowled as the door locked once again behind her. The first thing he would do once he was free would be to break his agreement with Regina, he promised himself. After all, he owed the mayor a betrayal or four.

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A/N: Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. Don't forget to review! Reviews are lovely, yummy cookies that keep me motivated. I love them all equally, even something as simple as "liked it!"


	5. Queens, Knights, and Pawns

A/N: Sorry for the delay, family matters interrupted my writing schedule. But thank you one-and-all for the phenomenal support I got on the last chapter. I really appreciate it, keep it up!

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Chapter 5: Queens, Knights, and Pawns

Paige Driscoll opened the front door at the sheriff's knock. Emma smiled down at the doe-eyed girl and asked if her parents were at home. Paige gave a closed-lipped smile and said that she would get them. Emma stepped through the front door, into the front hall of a cozy-looking home. It wasn't long before Patrick and Sarah Driscoll came to greet her.

"Sheriff Swan, what can I do for you?" Patrick said as he moved forward to shake Emma's hand.

"I was wondering if we could have a chat." Emma replied.

"What about?" Sarah asked with a worried furrow forming between her eyebrows.

"About Paige." Emma said with an awkward sigh.

Patrick folded his arms across his chest. "Has she done something wrong, Sheriff?"

Emma saw Paige's eyes go wide from where she was eavesdropping on their conversation around the door frame in the kitchen.

"No, Mrs. Driscoll, as far as I know Paige is the picture of a perfect child… What I wanted to talk to you about was her connection to Mr. Jefferson Lake."

"You mean the mad-man?" Patrick asked. "The one who's been running around town lately?"

Emma hesitated before nodding. "Yes, ma'am. That is his reputation, but I have reason to believe that Mr. Lake is Paige's biological father."

"Really?" Sarah gasped. Both parents looked alarmed. "What makes you think that?"

Emma shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Did Dr. Whale or Mayor Mills ever ask for a DNA sample from Paige?"

"No, that's never happened." Patrick answered without hesitating.

But Emma could see that Sarah didn't look quite so convinced.

"Mrs. Driscoll, what is it?"

"It's just-" Sarah glanced up at her husband and then over the Emma nervously. "Dr. Whale sent a nurse to the school, and called Paige out of her class… Paige told me about it after school, the only reason I remember is because it stood out in my mind as strange. She said they did a cheek swab, and took a blood sample as well… I called his office to ask him what it was for, and he told me that it was for a town database. To be used if Paige should ever disappear, or be kidnapped… Are you saying he was lying, Sheriff?"

Emma frowned. "Maybe, Mrs. Driscoll. When did this happen?"

"Um…" Sarah shook her head.

"It's a bit foggy now," she admitted. "A few years ago at least."

"Does May 2001 sound about right?" Emma asked.

"Yes," answered Sarah, "Yes that sounds about right. It was around the same time as the annual spring concert at the school. But I'm not sure about the year… Time is funny like that isn't it?"

Emma pulled the paternity test out of the folder she carried, and handed it to Paige's parents.

"This paternity test was done around the same time." Emma said. "And as you can see here," she pointed to a notation at the bottom of the page. "It confirms Paige as Jefferson Lake's daughter."

She could see from the way the two parents tensed that she had struck a nerve with them.

"Were you aware of this?" Emma asked, attempting to coax out the exact source of their discomfort.

"No," Sarah replied, "No one ever told us."

Emma believed her.

"So what now?" Patrick asked, an angry edge creeping into his voice. "Is he going to try to take her away from us? We raised her; he gave her up when she was a baby! We have a right to her as well!"

Emma fought down her knee-jerk reaction to Mr. Driscoll's words as he reminded her of her own fragile relationship with Henry.

"Mr. Driscoll," she said after taking a calming breath. "I honestly don't believe that Mr. Lake would ever do anything that would lead to Paige being unhappy. What happens will be up to Paige and Paige alone. But I think that he would very much like to be able to simply see her from time-to-time…"

"But isn't he crazy?" Sarah asked, contented that no one was going to try and take her baby away, but still worried over the man who was apparently her baby's father.

Emma sighed. "He is being observed by Dr. Whale at present, yes. But I know him; he is a good man and he would _never_ harm a child."

The hairs on the back of Emma's neck stood on end, and a voice whispered ominously. 'Unless that child stood between him and getting his daughter back…' But Emma forced that foreboding feeling down and continued:

"I can arrange to chaperone Mr. Lake and Paige's meetings myself, if that would make you feel any better."

Sarah and Patrick still looked uncertain. "I appreciate your offer sheriff, but we have to think of our daughter. What would this do to her? She's already been through a lot, you see, she's teased at school for being adopted…"

"I want to meet him." A voice popped up from down the hall.

"Paige?" Her mother asked uncertainly.

The girl walked up to her adoptive mother and looked up at her with a familiar determination in her eye. Emma had seen that look several times over the past week from her father.

"I want to ask him why he gave me up. I want to _know_ him. You'll always be my mom and dad," she stressed. "But I'd like to have him too… if he'll have me."

Emma smiled at the girl, and neither of her parents could really argue with their daughter's logic and wishes.

"You said he's being observed by Dr. Whale," Patrick said. "What does that mean?"

Emma sighed; the truth would come out eventually.

"It means that the doctor is watching Jefferson's behavior to see if he is a danger to himself or to anyone else… He goes before a judge on Monday for a hearing, which will determine whether he'll spend the foreseeable future in the mental ward of the hospital or as a free man."

The two adults nodded gravely, and Paige frowned.

"Be honest, Sheriff Swan," Sarah asked. "You said you know him; which do you think he deserves?"

Emma took a minute to think, recognizing that these people deserved a carefully considered answer.

"In my opinion, he's done nothing to deserve being locked up. He does need help; but I do not believe that the hospital is the place for him to find that help."

"Where then?"

Emma shrugged. "I don't know, Dr. Hopper perhaps. But I know that having friends can do wonders, as can family." Emma looked pointedly down at Paige and the young girl met her eyes bravely.

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Jefferson had a visitor on Saturday morning.

Immediately on guard, Jefferson assumed a nonchalant air as Rumplestiltskin entered his cell. Jefferson had heard the sound of his limping, tri-step gait from down the hall; his hard-heeled shoes, and metal-tipped cane clicking loudly on the linoleum of the hospital floors.

The inmates were oddly silent as he had passed by the doors, as if in their madness they were granted a sliver of the truth by way of the memory of the instinct to fear this man.

"Mr. Lake, I hope you are well." The Dark One said, amicably; all traces of his odd accent and indeed the physical effects of his affliction erased by Regina's curse.

Jefferson grunted in reply.

"Come now, is that any way to treat a man here to act as your defense council?"

Jefferson's eyebrow twitched and his eyes slid from the wall to Rumplestiltskin's face, searching for traces of the price he'd have to pay for such a bargain.

"_You_ want to help _me_?" Jefferson asked incredulously.

"Shocking isn't it? But true, nonetheless." The pawn-broker's face betrayed nothing.

"First you help Mary Margaret during her trial, now you're offering to help me?" Jefferson shook his head. "I don't buy it. What's in it for you?"

"Oh, let's just say I have a soft spot in my heart for those in need."

Jefferson snorted. "They are easy to scalp aren't they?"

"Think what you will; but help you need, and help I can give you."

"Let me guess: for a price?" Jefferson mimicked Rumplestiltskin's old voice and high-pitched maniacal giggle.

The corner of Rumplestiltskin's mouth tipped up in something that could have almost been amusement had it not been so threatening as if recognizing a worthy opponent in the man before him.

"Naturally," he said, his smirk growing into a full-blown grin.

Jefferson took a breath and returned his gaze to the far wall; satisfied that this man wasn't going to try and sell him a wolf in a wool sweater without mentioning the teeth.

"What exactly do you propose?" he said.

Rumplestiltskin immediately relaxed into the skin of a salesman, and began to pace the room without the aid of his cane as he put forth his plan.

"In reality," he began. "All we need is Dr. Whale's good word and any self-respecting, lazy judge with too little free time would let you go free. Unfortunately, the judge at your hearing is one of Regina's pawns, as is Dr. Whale. So our problem now lies in wrenching them from her grasp…"

"I've already made a deal with Regina." Jefferson drawled.

"You mean the one that will keep you from our sweet Sheriff's side forevermore? The one that you intend to break the moment you're through the doors of the courthouse?"

Jefferson said nothing.

"I do not intend to judge, Mr. Lake. Not when Regina has been so integral to every loss you've suffered over the years… your wife… your home… your daughter…"

"Are you here for a reason, or just to chat?" Jefferson snapped.

"Quite right." Rumplestiltskin said with a smile that made Jefferson fear he had revealed too much.

For the next half-hour they went over Jefferson's cover story, and what he should say if called upon to make a statement before the judge, and that Rumplestiltskin would spend the rest of the evening and the following day whispering in the judge's ear. Exactly what he would be whispering, Rumplestiltskin would not say, but he assured Jefferson that he would approve of it when he heard. It was dusk before Rumplestiltskin left and Jefferson stopped him before the other man could limp out the door.

"Why _are_ you doing this?" He asked. "You still haven't told me what you want."

Rumplestiltskin sighed and stared a moment before replying.

"Because I believe in making good investments." He said, "And I think you can be of use to me in the future, especially if you owe me a favor."

Then he left before Jefferson could ask him what that meant.

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The weekend came and went all too slowly in Jefferson's opinion, even though no one had asked for it. Eventually Monday came and with it came Regina, Dr. Whale, a pair of handcuffs, and his hearing before the judge.

Jefferson was allowed to dress himself in a freshly pressed suit (one that hadn't come from his own closet and was an utterly dull shade of pattern-less grey) while being monitored through the viewing port in his cell door. Then he was shoved into the back of a hospital van and driven to the court house. Once there he was roughly pulled from the van and into a large courtroom by the same men who had wrestled him into a straitjacket and given him his black eye and split lip. He was pushed into a chair at the defendants' table next to Rumplestiltskin.

"Good morning, Mr. Lake. I trust you slept well." Rumplestiltskin said in greeting.

"As well as I ever do, _Mr. Gold_." Jefferson huffed, as his handcuffs were replaced with arm and ankle chains.

Jefferson glanced around the room curiously. The courtroom was full of people. Jefferson could see his former neighbors, the people who had Grace, sitting in the back row. He wondered why they were here, but sighed a breath of relief when he noticed that Grace herself, was not present. The last thing he wanted was for his daughter to see him like this.

The man-puppet Pinocchio sat near the back with a disgruntled scowl on his face. Emma had said he was a writer, Jefferson supposed he was here for material for his next book. Mary Margaret was in the audience too, and they stared at each other for a long time before Mary Margaret gave a reserved, but encouraging smile, that seemed to say: "I'm not actually here for you." Which could only mean that –

Emma burst into the court room with the force of a wild fire, and the determined look on her face made him want to take a step back, so as not to hinder her on whatever quest she was set on. However, being chained to the desk as he was, all he could manage was a noisy scraping of his chair three inches in a given direction. Emma sat at the front of the court room just behind the defendant's table and he turned to look at her.

"Emma," he said in greeting, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He saw Emma struggle not to blush and this made him grin all the wider.

"Mr. Lake." She replied with a curt nod.

He was almost convinced that she was here strictly for business reasons, but the glint of memory in her eye gave him reason to smirk triumphantly. She was his friend, whether she meant to be or not, and for some reason, that made Jefferson feel more calm than he had all weekend.

A flash from directly in front of his face drew Jefferson's attention away from Emma. He frowned at the young journalist who had replaced Sydney Glass who simply gave him a saucy smile before scurrying away again.

Regina, always one for a dramatic entrance, waltzed into the courtroom with a flourish, and dropped gracefully into a chair – on the prosecutions' side of the court… She graced Jefferson with an indulgent smile and he scowled back at her.

Emma moved to the front of the room to start the proceedings by announcing the arrival of the judge. Everyone stood as he entered.

The judge was a white-haired man with a stern face and weak blue eyes. He scowled out over the courtroom before allowing all in attendance to relax. He inspected Jefferson closest of all, taking in his bruised appearance.

"Dr. Whale," The judge drawled.

Dr. Whale stood. "Yes, your honor?"

"Would you care to explain to me why Mr. Lake is sporting a black eye?"

Dr. Whale had the decency to look nervous. "He resisted arrest, your honor." The doctor stuttered.

The judge merely growled in disapproval and proceeded to ask the prosecutor to call in their first witness. The hearing began with testimony from the person who had called in Jefferson's whereabouts. As it turned out this was the agoraphobic young woman who lived with her mother on the top floor of the tallest building in town and who watched the goings on of the town through a pair of binoculars. Jefferson had known her as Rapunzel, the bright spirited young woman who had finally escaped her imprisonment in a witch's tower to become the princess of one of the kingdoms that shared a border with Regina's.

After the girl's testimony Rumplestiltskin was allowed to call witnesses for Jefferson's defense. The first witness he called was Dr. Whale; who claimed that though Jefferson did suffer from multiple delusions, he was not a threat to himself or others, after exchanging meaningful glances with Regina.

Emma was then called up to the stand, who said much of the same, basing her opinion of him on her conversations with him while he was in the hospital, and leaving out the part where he had hid in her house for a week and a half.

Regina then agreed that though Jefferson did suffer delusions that he had never been a danger to anyone in the past, however she suggested that someone be made to keep an eye on him, and volunteered for that position herself in a selfless act to protect the people of Storybrooke.

The last testimony was the most shocking of all. August Booth stood from the back of the room and came forward. Emma swore him in with a nervous look on her face, and Jefferson's heart pounded in his chest. Even Rumplestiltskin looked surprised revealing that even he had not planned for this, meaning that August was just as likely to incriminate Jefferson as he was to speak for him. But Jefferson was more worried for Emma; August knew that he had stayed with her all this time. What Jefferson didn't know was whether or not August was the sort of man who was bitter enough to seek revenge for a slight. Jefferson knew what he would do in this situation, which didn't bode well for himself or Emma.

August took a deep breath before spinning a tale of how he and Jefferson had been friends for years, and how he had never been a danger to anyone, despite the fact that Jefferson had become a bit eccentric after the death of his sweetheart several years ago. The story sounded convincing, but Jefferson was far more surprised by the amount of truth to it. So Jefferson began to wonder exactly how much August knew, or perhaps remembered.

"Thank you," Emma whispered to August as he stepped down from the witness stand.

"You owe me one. " He whispered back.

Emma nodded in agreement.

The courtroom was adjourned for lunch and Emma cuffed Jefferson and brought him to the court's holding cell for the hour wait before they would hear what the judge had to say.

Mary Margaret and August stopped by with take-away lunches from Granny's, and the four ate in relative silence. Jefferson, though he professed to not feeling nervous, barely touched his food, in favor of staring out the barred window of the cell. Eventually a conversation started between Emma and Mary Margaret considering their dinner that evening, and how Mary Margaret had managed to get the day off.

"Mr. Booth," Jefferson said after a while. "I'd like to thank you for your help today. I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I'd like to amend that now… If you ever need anything from me, anything at all, all you have to do is ask."

August chuckled ruefully. "I didn't do it for you… I did it for Emma."

Emma looked up from her Greek salad like she had been caught with her hand in a cookie jar.

"I know Emma cares about you," August continued, and put a hand up to stop Emma's protests before they began. "God knows why she does, but that's enough for me. So I'll do what I can to help a friend of Emma's."

Emma looked like a cornered animal and clearly wasn't about to say anything to draw more attention to herself so Jefferson nodded.

"All the same," he said, "the offer still stands."

August nodded his head in consideration. "All the same, I may just take you up on that someday." He said, and then tucked back into his turkey club.

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Jefferson looked tense as Emma led him back to the courtroom. Regina smiled beatifically from the front row and Jefferson scowled back at her. Emma secured him in his seat and returned to her place next to the judge's podium and announced the judge's return. Everyone stood then was swiftly instructed to sit down again as the judge breezed through the formalities. Finally the judge asked Jefferson to stand to receive the court's decision.

"After reviewing the evidence given today…" the judge began, "it is the decision of this court, and thereby the state of Maine, that the defendant, Mr. Jefferson Lake, be found competent of mind and will therefore remain a free man under his own care and supervision. As demonstrated by the court today, Mr. Lake is a man with some fanciful delusions, but as he is not a threat to himself to to others, there is no reason why he shouldn't be allowed to live a free man. I have come to this conclusion because of the testimony given today, and by virtue of the fact that our psychiatric facilities are not equipped to house large numbers… However, despite the glowing testimonies given on Mr. Lake's behalf, it is my personal opinion that Mr. Lake should not be left entirely alone in his condition. So after much deliberation with our esteemed mayor on the issue, I have decided to make the mandate that Mr. Lake be checked on weekly, and that it is our – Sheriff who will be the one to carry out these reviews."

"What?" Regina cried out in surprise and fury.

Emma too looked visibly taken aback by the judge's decision so Jefferson knew it hadn't been her idea either…

"Your honor, I really must protest…" Regina said, stepping onto the floor.

"My ruling if final Madame Mayor, this assembly is adjourned." With a curt rap of the gavel, the judge fled the room, and Regina's righteous fury.

The court was immediately a-twitter with murmurs from the people who had gathered to watch the hearing, but Jefferson didn't really care what they were thinking.

Regina was the first to stalk up to him, but it was the man beside him who was the subject of her rage.

"I don't know how you pulled of a little stunt like that, but you will _not_ get away with it, Gold." She hissed.

"I don't know what you're talking about Mayor Mills; I had nothing to do with the judge's decision." Rumplestiltskin said, but the smile on his face said that he had everything to do with it.

"Watch yourself Gold, because I'll be watching you very closely… and when you stumble, I'll be there to watch you fall." The Mayor seethed.

"_Please_." Rumplestiltskin sneered, and stepped around Regina who looked like she'd suddenly swallowed her tongue.

Emma stepped up to unlock Jefferson's handcuffs as Regina stalked away again still opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

"What's her deal?" she asked.

"Oh, you know… she can't stand to see anyone else happy." A muscle near Jefferson's eye twitched.

"Don't I know it, come on, let's get you home." She gave him a closed lip smile, which Jefferson returned, and he walked out of the courtroom a free man.

A/N: As always, if you liked it, why not say so? Thanks for reading! The next chapter is the last.


	6. Rewards

A/N: Last chapter everyone. This has been a fun ride; I hope you've all enjoyed it. Once again, thank you so much, for all of the phenomenal support you've given me for this fic. And so, without further ado, chapter 6 of our 6 scene opus.

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Chapter 6: Rewards

Emma's yellow bug pulled up in front of Jefferson's mansion but neither driver nor passenger made any move to step out of the car. Both sat staring up at the beautiful, empty house that had been both the embodiment of Jefferson's youthful dreamings, and the perfect nightmarish prison of the wiser, harder man he had become because of his circumstances. Emma's eyes shifted to the man who sat beside her, who had been disturbingly quiet on the car ride away from town.

"You ok?" she asked, finally.

Jefferson drew in a shaky breath before nodding. "I'm fine." He said, but Emma didn't believe him.

"Don't lie to me." She scolded, and that earned a wistful quirk of the lips from him.

"You're getting better at reading me." He said, with a trace of pride in his voice.

Emma snorted, and it broke the fragile quiet with the abruptness of a hammer to a pane of glass.

"Should be," she said, "you did spend a week handcuffed to my sofa."

Jefferson shrugged, and they fell into a comfortable silence once again.

"You ready?" Emma asked.

Jefferson sighed. "I've been alone for so long" he said, "This past week was the first time in almost thirty years that I lived with another person… that I didn't have only myself to talk to… It was nice."

Emma smiled softly, and took his hand from where it lay on his thigh. "You don't have to be alone anymore, you've got friends now."

Jefferson sighed again, and braced himself to go back into the house that had once been his prison.

"I'm ready." He whispered. It didn't seem so scary anymore.

Emma and Jefferson stepped out of the car and walked up the steps to the front door.

"Would you like to come in?" Jefferson offered, gesturing vaguely at the door.

"Depends, are you going to drug me again?" Emma quipped.

Jefferson looked awkwardly down at his hands. "Ah… no. I'm never going to live that down am I?"

Emma shook her head. "Nope, not ever, but I'll come in for a little while anyway."

The smile Jefferson gave her was worth the potential for kidnapping.

The house had been torn apart while Regina and Dr. Whale had been searching for Jefferson. Furniture had been pushed away from the walls, and previously shelved items were strewn across the floor in attempts to find hidey-holes or general clues to Jefferson's whereabouts.

Jefferson sighed in exasperation as he eyed the mess.

"Did they take anything?" Emma asked. "I can have them brought in on charges so fast their heads will spin. I am the Sheriff afterall."

"I don't think so. But thank you anyway." Jefferson replied.

They stared at the mess in silence for a few moments as if expecting it to rearrange itself into its proper order all on its own.

"You want some help clearing this up?" Emma offered.

Jefferson shook his head. "I shouldn't make you… you've already done too much for me as it is."

"I'm offering." Emma cut him off.

Jefferson gave her a relieved smile. "If you don't mind."

The next few hours were spent moving furniture, picking up broken vases, and straightening out the rooms of Jefferson's mansion. When they came to his study Emma eyed Jefferson's telescopes warily.

"I don't just spy on my daughter, you know." Jefferson said, noticing Emma's discomfort.

"That's not really that comforting." Emma said with a frown.

"Let me show you?"

Emma stared at him for a moment before nodding. They moved over to the windows and Jefferson looked through the telescope, swinging it over the town below. It was mid-afternoon by this time, the schools were just getting out and the town was bustling about its daily business, oblivious to Jefferson's watchful eye.

"Here," he said, stepping back from the telescope and offering the eye-piece to Emma.

Emma stepped up to it and squinted down the neck of the spy glass.

Henry was just leaving school, waiting by the side of the road for Regina to pick him up. A few other children walked by and waved a friendly goodbye to him.

"When Regina brought home a new baby, I was suspicious. I kept an eye on him, tried to make sure he was alright. He's grown up well, in spite of Regina's cold heart. He's more like you than he is like her. Brave to a fault, stubborn, and self-reliant. Good kid."

Emma realized in that moment that Jefferson knew her son better than she did.

"Thank you," she said, and she meant it. "Thank you for looking after him, you're a better parent than I am."

Jefferson shrugged, his face clouding over.

"That's debatable. I shouldn't have left Grace."

Emma ignored his use of the delusionary name he had for the girl. "If it's any consolation, I think she's grown up into a great kid too."

Jefferson gave her a wistful smile. "I know."

The sound of the doorbell cut through the melancholy of the conversation. Emma smiled at the confused look on Jefferson's face.

"I hope you don't mind," she said, "but I invited someone over for afternoon tea?"

Jefferson eyed her in confusion.

"Just answer the door." She urged.

She followed him down the upper halls and staircase, through the wealthy opulence that was depressingly empty for all its style and grandeur.

Jefferson peeked out a window in the living room and nearly collapsed when he caught sight of the three people standing on his porch.

His eyes were wild when he turned to Emma, like a caged animal.

"What?" She asked.

"I can't do this, Emma!"

"Why not?"

"Because I'll be too tempted to just take her. You shouldn't have brought her here; I don't want her to see me like this!" He cried, suddenly angry.

Emma frowned, but reached for his hand. "That's why I'm here." She said soothingly. "I won't let you do anything that will ruin your chances of seeing her again. Besides, I know you'd never do anything to hurt her."

Jefferson's breathing slowed from a gallop, and the doorbell sounded again in the background.

"Do you want to try? Do you think you could deal with the regret if you don't?"

Jefferson shook his head.

"Then get up, and answer the door."

Jefferson stood from where he had slumped on the couch and straightened the suit he wore. His fingers strayed over his throat and Emma saw the panic in his eyes as he realized his scar was visible. Emma quickly pulled a scarf off of the coat tree in the corner and handed it to Jefferson. He smiled at her nervously and wrapped the scarf artfully around his neck with the expertise of practice. Then he went to open the front door. With a steadying breath he pulled it open and was caught face-to-face with his daughter and her adoptive parents. Paige was holding a box of pastries, decorated with the logo from the local bakery and her look of confusion and nerves mirrored her father's perfectly.

There was an awkward silence and no-one knew exactly what should be said in this situation. It was Sarah Driscoll who finally took the plunge.

"Hello." She said, with a little wave.

Jefferson shook his head as if clearing away cobwebs and broke into a million-watt smile as he turned on the charm, hard.

"Forgive me," he said, "Emma forgot to mention that you were coming. This is a bit unexpected, and I was not entirely prepared…"

"We can come back, if this is a bad time." Patrick said, and Emma saw Paige's face fall with disappointment.

"No," Jefferson said, "I'm thrilled that you're all here. Please, come inside."

Jefferson stepped aside and let Paige and her parents through the door.

"Hello, Sheriff Swan." The young couple greeted Emma.

"Hey, nice to see you again." Emma replied.

Jefferson swept by the three strangers to his home and invited them into the living room to sit. Emma noticed that he was carefully avoiding eye-contact with Paige. On the other hand, Paige herself was curiously eyeing her biological father with a shrewd eye that took in every movement, every gesture. Emma could see the wheels turning in her brain, carefully filing and cataloguing this man. Emma couldn't blame her, he was odd, and took a bit of getting used to before you could be comfortable around him. Letting your guard down completely would be a mistake, but that was why Emma was here, so that no one else had to worry about predicting Jefferson's mercurial shifts in and out of madness.

"Would anyone care for a cup of tea?" Jefferson's all-too-innocent question shook Emma from her thoughts, and she caught the slightly manic glint in his eye. He was hiding it carefully, and that made Emma's hackles rise all the more.

"Yes, that sounds lovely." Sarah Driscoll replied, oblivious to the implications of tea and the man who called himself the Mad Hatter, as well as the potential explosive results of the two mixing.

"I'll help you get it!" Emma said a little too eagerly, and jumping out of her seat. All eyes in the room swung over to her in surprise.

Jefferson quickly waltzed out of the room and Emma had to scramble to keep up with his long strides, snatching up the box of pastries as she went, under the pretense of putting them on a plate. If the guests in the other room heard Emma and Jefferson bickering about the benefits of "loose leaf" tea versus previously packaged "bag tea," they didn't seem to think that Emma's vehement insistence that they be served tea that had less chance of being tampered with was anything to be concerned about. They did however hear the sounds of a china cup smashing on the floor, and the colorful language that followed, but they were polite enough not to mention it when Emma and Jefferson returned.

Eventually a large tray loaded with a tea pot, fine white china cups, and pastries was carried into the living room and set on the coffee table. The formalities of preparing tea were observed in relative silence. But Jefferson's hands shook slightly as he handed Paige a cup of warm milk, with a just a dash of honey. Not even Mr. or Mrs. Driscoll could miss the look of complete and utter adoration on Jefferson's face as she smiled in delight at receiving her favorite drink, and thanked him heartily.

Emma snagged a bear claw off of the platter of pastries, then sat back in her chair and sipped at her cup of non-drugged tea, preparing herself for the conversation to follow.

The conversation began with Patrick Driscoll asking Jefferson to share a little about himself, to which Jefferson replied with the sanest version of his past that Emma had ever heard. Emma did however find it necessary to subtly kick him in the shins once or twice when his narrative strayed too far towards the fantastical. There is nothing that would drive the Driscolls out of the door faster than if Jefferson began spouting stories about magic hats and the chopping off of heads.

Mr. and Mrs. Driscoll had the decency not to mention how bundled up Jefferson looked, with his scarf tied tightly around his neck. But every once in a while their eyes did stray down to the swath of grey fabric curiously. It was Paige who finally pointed out one of the many elephants in the room.

"Why are you wearing a scarf inside?" she asked, cocking her head innocently to one side.

"Paige!" Sarah Driscoll admonished in horror. "That isn't polite!"

"No, it's alright." Jefferson said. Then he turned to his daughter and looked at her fully for the first time during the visit.

"I wear this scarf to hide a scar on my neck… I don't like to show it, it's a reminder of… darker times." Jefferson's eyes grew distant as his thoughts turned to Wonderland.

Emma nudged him gently, to make sure he didn't dwell on it for too long and become lost in it. Emma still wondered how he really got that scar around his neck, it really was quite shocking.

Jefferson shook his head as if Wonderland could be banished as easily as shaking water from his hair.

"But that's another story for another time." He said with false levity. "Today is far too happy a day for it to be ruined with that tale."

Mr. Driscoll glanced at his watch.

"Oh god, seven already? Tonight's a school night so Paige you have to be in bed by nine and we haven't even had dinner yet." Mr. and Mrs. Driscoll stood to start cleaning up the dishes.

"I could…" Jefferson piped up and all eyes swung to him. "She could… I mean, this is a very large house and…" Jefferson stumbled over what he desperately wanted to say.

"Can I stay here tonight?" Paige filled in, moving around the coffee table to take Jefferson's hand in her own.

Mr. and Mrs. Driscoll stared at their daughter in shock, and looked at each other as if to say: "Well go on, you tell her."

But fortunately Jefferson recognized that he had not yet won their trust with their daughter, so he knelt down to Paige's level.

"Not tonight sweetheart." He said gently. "But soon. Your – parents and I need to get to know each other a bit better before we can do that."

Paige looked disappointed, but she nodded in understanding. The girl really was an angel.

"Paige, honey," Sarah Driscoll said, "Why don't you help Mr. Lake carry the dishes into the kitchen while your dad and I talk with the Sheriff?" Sarah gave Jefferson a pointed look that told him that his was his opportunity for some alone time with his daughter, and that if he did well this time he'd earn more at a later date.

Emma watched as Paige lifted the tray of remaining pastries and followed Jefferson into the kitchen. Emma bit her lip with nervous anticipation.

"Sheriff Swan," Sarah said, calling her attention back to the present. "You said you would be willing to chaperone any meetings between Paige and Mr. Lake. And since you have been required by the court to check up on him anyway, I'd like to take you up on that offer."

"Of course." Emma replied.

"Mr. Lake seems… troubled. So I have two conditions for his access to Paige."

"Ok."

"First, until either her father or I say otherwise, you must be present during their meetings. You seem to know Jefferson better than anyone else in town, and your presence would be less oppressive to them than Patrick or I. Second, Jefferson must go and start speaking with a professional about his delusions. As he makes progress there, he can begin to see Paige for longer, and more frequently and eventually un-chaperoned. He is also obligated to come to dinner at our house every once in a while so that we can get to know him better."

Emma nodded. "I'm sure he'll agree to all of it."

Sarah Driscoll nodded in acknowledgement.

"In that case, that's all I needed to say. So we really must be going now. Paige!" Sarah called for her daughter. "Paige, it's time to go!"

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Jefferson's heart pounded in his chest wildly as Paige followed him out of the living room and into the kitchen to help him clear up the dishes.

He laid his tray of china cups and saucers on the island in the middle of the kitchen, which looked like something out of a magazine or off of a cooking show. Paige looked mildly impressed with the lavish kitchen, but her focus was directed more towards him. She handed him the platter of remaining pastries and Jefferson poured all his concentration into returning the pastries to their original box and loading the dishwasher with dirty dishes. It had been a long time since he had had enough company to generate this much of a mess.

Jefferson could feel Paige's eyes boring into the back of his head. What she was thinking, he had no idea, but he was too busy fighting with himself to figure it out. The Hatter was screaming in his head, telling him to grab the girl and never let her leave. They could be together forever, just as it should be, happily ever after, Regina's curse be damned.

'No,' the saner part of his mind argued back. 'I can't hurt her like that. She loves these people and they love her. I don't know how or why I got this chance, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let you mess it up for me.'

The thought of the disappointment on Emma's face if he failed, was enough to sober him. She had done so much to help him; while she had brought her nothing but trouble… he didn't deserve her friendship, or her trust. One day it would all blow up in her face, just like it always did when people put their trust in him. People got hurt when they stayed too close to his side… people die.

Alice.

"Can I ask you a question?" Paige's shaky voice cut through his spiraling madness, and brought him back to the present. Jefferson realized he'd been scrubbing at the same clean tea pot for almost three minutes now. Then her words sank in.

"Of course, you can ask me anything." Jefferson replied.

"Why – why did you put me up for adoption? Did you not want me? Was there something wrong with me?" Tears began to flood Paige's eyes as years and years, more years that she even knew, of questions and insecurities came rushing to the surface.

Jefferson's heart broke in two.

"Oh baby, no." He said, all awkwardness falling away, all distance, as he reverted back into simply being Grace's father, the man he used to be, and he wrapped her up in a tight hug. Paige sniffed and clung to him instinctively, her fingers curling into the fabric of his suit.

Jefferson pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. "Listen to me, Gracie. I love you, so much. I always have, and I always will."

Paige sniffled. "Then why'd you send me away?"

"I didn't want to. It wasn't my decision…" Jefferson bit down on his tongue before he said too much, so he told his daughter a kinder lie… just like Regina wanted.

"I'm sick, baby. Something in my head got broken, and you weren't safe here with me anymore. So they took you away, and they thought it would be better if you never knew how to find me."

"Why not?"

"They didn't think I was going to get better."

"But you are gonna get better right? Sheriff Swan said that having family can help people get better, and I'm here now."

Jefferson smiled and brushed the rest of his daughter's tears away with a swipe of his thumbs across her cheeks, before pulling her into another tight hug.

"Yeah, I'm going to get better. It's not going to be easy, but now that I have something to fight for, I'm going to try." And in that moment Jefferson was the most calm he'd felt in almost thirty years.

"Paige!" Paige's mother's voice called from the living room. "Paige, it's time to go!"

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Paige shuffled in resignation out of the kitchen with Jefferson in tow, and the small family moved to the front hall in order to say their goodbyes. Paige shocked everyone by jumping up and latching her arms around Jefferson's neck in a goodbye-hug that Jefferson returned with relish. Patrick gave Jefferson a cordial handshake before going with Paige out to their waiting car.

Sarah Driscoll waited until her husband and daughter were gone before making her farewells.

"Mr. Lake," she began, "I've already laid out my terms to the Sheriff and I will get to those in a moment, but I'll just say this now: Patrick and I love Paige very much… But you're her parent too, so I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt, for her sake."

Jefferson nodded in understanding. "Thank you." He said sincerely.

Sarah then repeated her terms to Jefferson, all of which he agreed to.

"Goodnight, Mr. Lake." She said when she was satisfied that all her terms were understood, and offered him her hand to shake.

Jefferson took it. "Please, call me Jefferson." He said, with a shy smile.

Sarah smiled in return and nodded. "Goodnight then, Jefferson, Sheriff."

Then she walked out the door and to the car where her husband and daughter were waiting for her.

Emma didn't speak until the car had pulled out of the driveway and was out of sight, into the woods.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, watching Jefferson for any sign of emotion.

An eyebrow twitched at the sound of her voice, and he heaved a great sigh before replying with a drawn out: "I'm… good." He sounded just as surprised by this as she did.

Emma smiled gently as she saw that he wasn't lying.

"I'm proud of you." She said. "You did really well today."

Jefferson gave her a pointed look. "You had to stop me from drugging them when they first arrived."

Emma sighed. "Yes, but that's why I was here in the first place. To be your conscience when your real one goes missing."

Jefferson smiled in amusement.

"What?"

"I just got the mental image of you dressed up like a cricket, with a bow tie and a miniature umbrella."

Emma rolled her eyes, but had to smile.

Jefferson shook his head. "I don't know what you did to make today turn out the way it did, but thank you."

Emma frowned. "What makes you think I did anything?"

"My luck is never this good." He replied.

Emma shrugged. "I just dug up the facts and gave them to the right people. They decided what to do with them."

It was then that Emma noticed that Jefferson was invading her personal space again.

"All the same, thank you." He said, in a voice barely above a whisper.

Emma backed up a step and Jefferson followed, driving her back into the living room.

"Jefferson," Emma said, cautiously. "What are you doing?"

"What am I doing, what?" Came his non-answer with a crooked grin, one could almost describe it at Cheshire.

Emma huffed in exasperation, but felt a pull of truly unwanted excitement from somewhere near the base of her spine.

"Jefferson…" she said, and his eyes jumped up to meet her eyes from where he had been staring at her lips.

"I'm seducing you." He said, simply.

Emma rolled her eyes. "You've got to be… Jefferson, I already said – "

The rest of her protests died as Jefferson lunged forward and kissed her senseless. By the time it ended Emma had relented and was pulling him closer by the lapels of his suit for more. They eventually collapsed onto the couch and lay staring at each other, panting for breath.

"Ok…" Emma said, trying to wrap her head around the situation. "Ok…"

"Ok, what?" Jefferson asked, as his lips brushed against her neck lazily.

Emma shivered. "Ok… what is this?"

"I believe this is your clavicle." He said before latching onto it with his mouth.

Emma cuffed him on the back of his shoulder.

"No! This," she gestured wildly in the air above his head. "This… thing we're doing…. That keeps happening… what… _is it?"_

Jefferson sobered and rose up to lean on his elbow so as to get a proper look at her.

"I don't love you." Emma blurted.

Jefferson nodded. "That's fine." He said, "I don't think of you as more than a friend either."

"Good, so… what is this? Why does it keep happening?"

Jefferson cocked an eyebrow at her. "I don't know if you've noticed, but there is a fair amount of 'chemistry' between us. So just because I don't think of you as more than a friend, doesn't mean I think of you as less than a woman, and a very attractive woman at that. And I'm not so mad as I can't recognize an attractive woman when she runs me down with her car."

Emma frowned, and Jefferson sighed in exasperation.

"You can admit that you're attracted to me, Emma. That doesn't count as a commitment."

"I'm not attracted to you!" she cried, indignantly, and Jefferson gave her a look that said he clearly didn't believe her. "Ok, fine, yeah I am attracted to you. But I don't want a relationship; I can't deal with that right now."

"It's not exactly something I can do either." Jefferson admitted.

"So then what is this?"

"Does it need a label?"

"Yes. Because I need to know exactly what is going to be expected of me."

Jefferson sighed. "Well, what do you want it to be?"

Emma groaned in frustration. "I'm being serious!" she huffed.

"So am I." He said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear so he could see her better. "What do you want it to be? I'm at as much of a loss as you are."

Emma bit her lip in thought. "I want to be able to back out of this for any reason, or even for no reason at all and have you back off immediately."

Jefferson nodded in agreement and raised his hands defensively.

"In public," Emma continued, "we're nothing more than friends."

"Well, that is presuming that I go out in public, but I will agree all the same."

"I want to be able to show up unannounced just to get away from work or life if I need to."

"My home is at your disposal."

Emma sighed, she felt better for having gotten all of that off her chest, and for having established some ground rules to be observed. "How about you?" she asked.

Jefferson gazed up at the ceiling in thought. "I want you to keep me grounded when I'm with you, the way you did today. I'd like for you to believe me when I talk about home and Wonderland, but I understand that that is unlikely. And despite what everyone says about me, I know what is real, and what isn't, but I understand that everyone else doesn't see it that way. So I want you to help me pretend. I want to pretend that I fit so that I can survive here, until the curse is broken."

Emma opened her mouth to protest his fantasy, but something stopped her. He was trying, and this was probably as good as it was going to get for a while, so instead she just nodded and said: "Deal."

With that Jefferson kissed her, and it wasn't long before Emma was lost in it completely.

Clothes were quickly shed as kisses turned more and more frantic. Moving up to the master bedroom was proposed, but that idea was discarded when Emma simply straddled him and took him inside of her, too impatient to even make it up the stairs. The plush rug cushioned Emma's knees as she began to move her hips, and Jefferson arched his back up into her, his eyes squeezed tight, and toes curling against the pleasure. Neither one lasted long and they plummeted over the edge one after the other with moans and prayers on their lips. Emma collapsed on top of him and sighed contentedly, but it wasn't long before Jefferson was hard again, and he was driving into her from behind.

It was fully dark by the time they finished, having climaxed, then cooled down, then worked themselves over the edge again several times that evening. Eventually they had made it up into the king sized bed in Jefferson's bedroom, and they had tested the structural soundness of the head board several times over.

Emma lay contentedly in Jefferson's arms, her head rested on his shoulder and her leg thrown across his waist as one of his hands traced up and down her arm.

"So what would you call this, if you had to give it a name." she asked.

"I believe this is called the 'afterglow' by most people these days." Jefferson replied.

Emma huffed.

Jefferson chuckled. "You are very keen on labels aren't you?" Then he paused to mull it over for a moment. "I think the term 'friends-with-benefits' fits the situation the best."

"Friends with benefits…" Emma said, as if tasting the phrase for the first time. "That sounds good, I think I could deal with that."

"Good." Jefferson said, rolling over to kiss her gently. Jefferson was a master at bringing her blood up to a simmer in her veins, and he was having no problem persuading her to the idea of another round.

Emma's phone started the jangle a cheerful tune from her jeans, which had been discarded on the floor after somehow making up the stairs.

Emma groaned and rolled out of the bed to answer the phone. It was Mary Margaret.

"Hey, you alright?" Mary Margaret asked. "What time are you coming home?"

"Yeah, I'm just… finishing up some paperwork, I'll be home soon."

Emma sat on the bed and Jefferson crawled over to dot kisses across her shoulders.

"Oh, ok." Mary Margaret replied. "Is spaghetti ok with you for dinner?"

"Perfect." Emma had to bat Jefferson away as he started to nibble at her neck and earlobes. He grinned wickedly.

"I'll see you soon." Emma said.

"Ok, bye." Mary Margaret hung up, and Emma started to collect her belongings and pull on her clothes.

"You're leaving?" Jefferson asked, looking severely put-out.

"Yeah, Mary Margaret was wondering where I was."

"Ah," Jefferson nodded, "Why did you lie?"

"Jefferson, we've been over this. We're not dating, it's not like anyone has to know that we're sleeping together. In fact, I think it'd be better if this did just stay between you and me."

Jefferson frowned. "Why?"

Emma sighed. "This is already a serious lapse in my judgment as is. I'm supposed to be monitoring you, and it would be a slight conflict of interest if people knew I was sleeping with you as well…"

As much as Jefferson didn't want to admit it, she had a point. Relenting, he nodded his understanding. By this time, Emma had mostly finished dressing; her bra, panties, and jacket had remained in the living room, leaving her going commando in her jeans and t-shirt.

Emma smiled at him nervously. "I'll be by again soon, I promise."

Jefferson frowned, but nodded again.

"I'll be bringing Paige to visit soon too…" Emma said in an attempt to elicit a smile from him, and she sort of succeeded. He still looked unhappy with their situation, but his face visibly softened at the mention of his daughter coming to visit again.

"Go," he said, "Before I tie you down and make you stay."

Emma laughed nervously, something in his voice warned that he was at least half serious with his threat.

She sobered. "I promise, I'll be back soon Jefferson… You won't be alone here anymore."

Jefferson sighed, "I'll see you soon, then. Goodbye, Emma."

"Bye."

With that she turned and left. The front door clicked shut solidly and Jefferson felt his solitude weigh down on his chest. He sighed again loudly, to try and break the oppressive silence of his empty house. He and Emma were off to a rough start, but at least now he could say he had a friend in Storybrooke. A voice in the back of his head pointed out all the people who had testified at his hearing on his behalf. A handful of friends, he conceded, and that was enough to make him smile with an emotion he hadn't experienced in years; hope.

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A/N: Thanks for reading, and please just because this is the last chapter, don't forget to review. Something as simple as "I liked it." Would be greatly appreciated! (However, if you didn't like it, please tell me why, so I can improve my writing in the future.)

**SPECIEAL A/N: I will be continuing Emma and Jefferson's story in another fic that will be titled "The Deep End." Start looking for it around mid-September. **


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